


The Robot Diaries

by 3wisellamas



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: Gen, also some alcohol mentions and language (mostly Shannon's fault...), because there is an amazingly sad lack of that kind of content right now, nothing worse than in the show don't worry, some content warnings for child abuse because that's just what happens when boxy's around though, there is voxman but it's mostly in the background, this is all about pv and the bots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 03:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16400135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3wisellamas/pseuds/3wisellamas
Summary: Professor Venomous spends some time getting to know his six new robot employees / stepkids?





	1. Intro

In all of his years of villainy, Professor Venomous had never had a breakfast quite like this.   
  
He sat at an unfamiliar table in an unfamiliar kitchen, for some reason tucked off to the side of one of the upper levels of Boxmore's factory floors.  But, that was far from the most unusual thing about his first official morning as the factory's new owner -- rather, it was the fact that he'd never had a family breakfast at a table currently seating seven, eight once Lord Boxman had finally finished heating his toaster pastry and sat down still half-asleep next to him, and ultimately nine if one also counted the yellow animal-like robot ignoring its full dish and pawing at one of its siblings' legs for scraps.   
  
And aside from that odd robot he couldn't place, Boxman, and Fink, every one of that table's occupants were staring right at him, as if they were just as unfamiliar with the situation.   
  
Venomous could put names to a few of the robots.  The large purple one and the yellow one were complete mysteries, but he had seen an advertisement on TV recently for the Raymond model, and recognized the green robot who was absentmindedly swirling a spoon in his bowl of bolts and milk.  And he vaguely remembered an older ad in one of his doomsday device magazines for the small blue one sitting in a high chair...Jerry? Jermaine? Something that began with a J.   
  
Of course, he could easily identify Shannon, one of the two whom he'd seen before when he'd visited.  But, even more than that, he'd bought and owned quite a few of the model in the past as well -- they were expensive, but their impressive shapeshifting abilities had made them quite useful around his old lab, as well as when he'd needed to defend it from heroes.   
  
And there was one other one he'd seen before, Darrell, the one that Boxman told him had previously taken over Boxmore to run for himself.  Venomous had bought one of those before too, since they were cheaper, and while it wasn't as useful for his needs as its sister model he'd enjoyed its cheerful personality.  Oddly, though, the Darrell across the table from Venomous was far from such, ignoring its bolt...cereal? completely as it scowled at the newcomer. Knowing the drastic actions it had taken recently, as well as how it was advertised to act, he wondered if it was functioning correctly.   
  
_ He, not it, he _ , Venomous reminded himself.  He was still used to seeing each and every one of these robots as products, that were bought and used by himself and other villains as tools, even if he knew that these unique factory versions were something completely different.  They were...family now, in a way.   
  
Professor Venomous realized he was eating breakfast not with six robots, but with six people he knew absolutely nothing about, and who barely knew anything about him.  And not even just six people, but Lord Boxman's six children, with whom he would be working and living closely from now on.    
  
And they were staring at him, not daring to say a single word.  Well, five were; the yellow one had moved on from its...her siblings to Boxman, pawing at his pant leg and whining.  The rotund man rolled his non-metallic eye and lightly swatted his hand at her paw to make her stop, but did tear a corner off of the pastry he was eating and tossed it towards her dish on the floor, to the robot's delight.   
  
Fink, meanwhile, in another high chair next to Venomous, watched Boxman's action and mirrored it herself, cutting off a little of one of her pancakes and tossing it to the floor with a giggle.  Venomous quickly bent down in his chair and caught the sticky piece just before it hit, though. He cleared his throat as he brought the piece back up and placed it on a napkin next to his own plate of pancakes.   
  
"Fink, we talked about playing with your food..."     
  
"But he was doin' it!"  The little girl pointed to Boxman and pouted, but did take a bite to prove to her boss that she was finished playing.    
  
Venomous grimaced a little as he tried in vain to wipe the syrup off of his hand, an uncomfortable feeling only compounded with all of the eyes on him in the once again silent kitchen.  He stood, taking a moment to locate the sink so he could wash it off.   
  
"Eh, I could use some coffee anyway."  He glanced towards Boxman as he passed behind him.  "You want some too?"   
  
"I thought you'd never ask."  Boxman was unusually quiet this morning, yawning and rubbing the organic half of his head as he concentrated almost exclusively on his meager breakfast, a far cry from his usual bombastic demeanor.   _ Maybe hold back on the celebratory champagne next time _ , Venomous mused to himself as he wiped his hand dry and poured two mugs of black coffee.  He swore that the room suddenly erupted in low whispering as his back was turned, but as he turned back around the table returned immediately to its former state, with the robots still staring.  He set Boxman’s mug down in front of him as he returned to his own seat.   
  
Suddenly, Fink started sniffing the air frantically, even attempting (unsuccessfully) to stand up in her high chair.     
  
"Boss, don't drink that!"   
  
It was too late before she shouted, however; the mug was already on his lips.  The coffee tasted normal at first, but then the normally bitter taste became much more so, and Venomous violently spit it back into his cup, even choking and gagging a little at the distinctly motor oil-ish aftertaste.  He grabbed the napkin that he'd stuck Fink's pancake piece to earlier and tried desperately to wipe as much of the tainted coffee off of his tongue as possible, with only minimal success, and he was forced to return to the sink to rinse out the awful taste.   
  
The commotion had definitely awakened Boxman a little more, who examined his mug closely and then threw it angrily onto the floor, barely missing the yellow robot's bowl.  He stood to check on Venomous, who was finally beginning to recover, and then turned back around to the robots, a look of unbridled rage on his face.

"Alright, that's it,” he bellowed, wincing and lowering his own volume.  "You've been rude, staring at Professor Venomous this entire time, that I can take.  But... _ this! _ "  He scanned the table, and growled.  "This is going too far. Who is responsible?"   
  
For the first time, the robots’ attention shifted away from Venomous, to his relief.  A few of them began murmuring, pointing randomly in desperate bids to shift attention around the room, though not to anyone in particular.

“He did it!”

“No, she did it!”

“I would never!  It was totally him!”

“It wasn’t me!”

It seemed obvious to Venomous that they all knew exactly who had set up the prank, but were hesitant to reveal the culprit.  He laid his hand on Boxman’s shoulder, in an attempt to diffuse the situation and let them all off easy.   
  
"Boxman...it's okay.  Really, I'll be-"   
  
"No, you're not!"  Boxman yanked Venomous' mug right out of his hands and slowly, menacingly poured it out onto the floor, refusing to break eye contact with the robots, all of whom now showed expressions of pure terror at the display.   
  
One, more than the others.  As the last of the oil-spiked coffee splashed across the floor tiles, Darrell suddenly yelped and bolted out the door, leaving his breakfast behind.  Boxman wasted no time dashing after him, and from the muffled yelling that made it back to the kitchen he caught the robot only a short distance down the hall.   
  
"Heh, serves him right."  Venomous watched Fink happily munch on her pancakes as the rest of the room returned once again to its awkward silence, though now with the added benefits of terrified, anxious robots and Boxman's distant shrieks.  The professor reseated himself and buried his head in his hands, pushing his plate off to the side.   
  
After a couple of minutes, Boxman stormed back into the kitchen and grabbed Darrell's unfinished bowl of cereal, before turning right back around.   
  
"Darrell will be eating in his room for the rest of this week," he snapped as he left the kitchen again.   
  
Venomous sighed, glancing back at the robots.  They were finally addressing their own breakfasts, as if eager to just be done with this meal and as far from the kitchen as possible.   
  
"I'm sorry about all that, guys."  The room's atmosphere had finally gotten tense enough that Venomous just had to say  _ something _ .  Raymond and that blue robot both glanced back at him for a moment, but otherwise the statement went largely ignored.   
  
Not satisfied, he tried again.  "This morning has been a little tough."  He paused for a second. "Okay, a lot tough.  I know none of you are used to having Fink and I here yet, but..."   
  
"Boss, they're not listening to you."   
  
He looked around the room again.  Fink was right, the robots all had their heads down and were concentrating on their food, and the purple one was already taking his empty bowl to the sink.  One by one the others all followed suit in the next few minutes, with the blue robot being carried out by Shannon last, leaving Venomous and Fink alone in the kitchen.   
  
The professor sighed again.  "Fink," he started, "I think I should get to know these guys a bit better.  Maybe then things won’t be this...awkward."   
  
She laughed at the thought.  "What's there to get? They're dumb robots."  She finished her pancakes, and began dipping her finger in the syrup to lick it off.  "And they stink as babysitters too!"   
  
Venomous took her plate, and lifted her from the high chair.  "Well, even if they're not the best babysitters, we're on their turf now."  He smiled at her. "It might be worth putting in some effort to learn about them.  For both of us." He thought again about Boxman’s harsh behavior towards his children that morning.  “Or, maybe even better for all of us.”   
  
"If you say so, Boss..."   
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Ernesto

"I'm so, so sorry about this morning, PV," Boxman apologized once again, now that he was fully awake and had had a cup of coffee sans oil.  He had to put in extra effort to keep up with Venomous' longer stride as the two walked along a catwalk suspended above one of the factory's assembly lines, but didn't seem to be bothered by it.  As he lunged forward to close the gap once again, he raised his hand to lightly touch the professor's upper arm.   
  
"I really don't know what's gotten into Darrell lately.  Usually his pranks are just, you know, him stealing your lab coat or leaving the sink running."   
  
"Hey, I'm not gonna worry about it, Boxman."  The incident was indeed far from Venomous' mind now, in spite of Boxman's occasional reminders, and he slowed his pace a bit to better take in the view.   
  
A  _ lot _ more Darrells marched below him in a massive, finely-coordinated performance as they tended to various tasks on the floor.  PV couldn't help but compare the sight to a beehive, with dozens of drones carrying boxes and parts and finished robots, and about a dozen others operating the factory equipment and computers.  Still more Darrells coordinated the floor, making sure that the the robots carrying parts and equipment made it to the right destination without interruption. Occasionally they also motioned for a few to step out of line to take breaks, and immediately targeted and brought in replacements.   
  
Boxman noticed the awed look on Venomous' face as he watched the show, and smirked.  "Impressive, right? Took me  _ years _ to get his programming to this level.  I'll admit, CEO wasn't a big stretch, Darrell really can run the factory almost entirely by himself!"   
  
PV glanced over to Boxman, who was attempting to wiggle his eyebrows a bit as he boasted.     
  
"So, wait, is he...running all of them?  Or...?" He squinted in confusion. "I thought these were just...you know, generic Darrells, with that one as your son."   
  
"Oh, they are when we sell 'em.  But Darrell's hivemind controls all of these ones here.  Watch this!" Boxman leaned over the catwalk railing, prompting Venomous to grab his arm just to be safe.  "Hey! Darrell!"   
  
"Yes, Dad!"  A few of the robots below looked up in unison...and then crashed right into the ones who didn't.  The perfect dance almost literally collapsed into chaos, with the coordinator Darrells desperately trying to untangle the pileups of workers and equipment caused by the chain reactions, and a few even voluntarily exploded themselves just to clear some space for the rest to figure things out.   
  
"Never mind!  Get back to work you slackers!!"  Boxman finally backed away from the railing to PV's relief.  "Ah, that's always good for a laugh."   
  
"So, they are a hivemind..."  Venomous continued to watch the Darrells re-coordinate themselves.  Remembering his earlier comparison, this news seemed astonishingly appropriate.  "How on Earth did you even manage that?"   
  
"Oh, it wasn't easy, let me tell you."  Boxman puffed out his chest, reveling in the opportunity to boast about his skills once again.  "I did kind of have to wing it, since all of their hiveminds are unique. Each model works  _ very _ differently, I think you'll notice."  He smiled. "In fact, shoot, today you'll have a lot of time with one of the other ones that I had to put a _ lot _ of effort into."   
  
"What does that mean?"  The Darrells below had finally reorganized themselves into a system almost as efficient as their previous one, so Venomous allowed Boxman to have his full attention once again.   
  
"I mean, there's, like, a  _ ton _ of paperwork that comes with owning a business, Professor.  All those forms, and invoices, ugh." He mimed a gag. "So, last night I had Ernesto prepare all the new owner paperwork that the board gave us for you to fill out!"   
  
_ Welp, here we go.  Time to go to work, _ Venomous thought to himself.  "Wait, which one is Ernesto again?"   
  
"Purple one."   
  
"Ah."   
  
"The offices are just through that door, and you'll find all kinds of Ernestos in there."  He pointed to the far end of the catwalk. "Just...talk to one, they'll all know exactly where you need to go."   
  
"He's a hivemind too?"     
  
"Yep.  And paperwork just happens to be his favorite thing in the world, so don't you worry about a thing PV, he's probably got it all filled out already.  But, even with him I just can't stand the stuff, so, toodles!" Boxman turned towards the opposite end of the catwalk, waving Venomous off.   
  
Venomous sighed, and resigned himself to just getting this over with.  He was indeed the new majority shareholder and owner of the company, after all, and paperwork was just part of the job, if the part he liked the least.  

  
  
\---   


  
In stark contrast to the assembly area's bustling activity, the factory offices were downright peaceful.  PV stepped through the door into a tight hallway lined entirely by cubicles, quiet except for the usual office sounds of paper shuffling and keyboards clacking.  He remembered what Boxman had said, to just approach any Ernesto and he would be able to direct him wherever he needed to go.    
  
He looked at the sign hanging outside the first cubicle to his right, reading "Ernesto 2406.”  A good enough place as any to start, he figured. Venomous poked his head around the cubicle entrance, but was dismayed to find it empty.   
  
Well, perhaps empty was a poor choice of words, the cubicle was just devoid of robots.  While the hallway seemed pristine on the outside, this particular desk was almost completely covered in unwieldy stacks of papers and discarded envelopes, as well as at least three empty coffee mugs that seemed to have found new lives as paperweights.  The floor was equally littered with discarded receipts, invoices, sales charts, order forms, proposals, spreadsheets, and...candy wrappers. An overfilled paper shredder sat neglected under the desk, in a position that suggested it lately saw more use as a footrest.   
  
One final piece of paper was taped over the computer monitor, which oddly struck PV as the most out of place one yet.  He leaned close to examine it:   
  
"Professor Venomous:   
  
In meeting.  Please see Ernesto 2814 at end of row.   
  
Sorry about the mess.  -Ernesto"   
  
He gently peeled the paper off of the monitor, a minuscule effort to remove even a tiny portion of the robot's clutter, and folded it before slipping it into his pocket.  To his surprise, the computer hadn't even been locked, and still showed a desktop wallpaper featuring a character he recognized from one of Fink's videos game. A tiny figurine of said character was also taped to the top of the monitor, winking and giving a thumbs-up.   
  
"Huh.  I'll have to see if he and Fink can play together."  He smiled at the thought of her finally having a willing gaming buddy, and left the cubicle, turning to follow the hallway further and keeping a close eye on the signs, which seemed to follow absolutely no pattern he could discern.   
  
Eventually he came across Ernesto 2814's desk, indeed towards the end of the row, and, seeing the large robot seated inside, politely knocked on the cubicle frame to get his attention.  Ernesto turned around with a start, interrupted from a rousing game of computer solitaire.    
  
The robot didn't have much of a face under his top hat, but the look of panic in his single eye was unmistakable.   
  
"P-Pr-Professor Venomous!"  He quickly closed the game and locked his computer entirely, and even shoved a few of the ever-present stacks of old papers and empty mugs aside to clear some desk space for his visitor.   
  
"I was, uh, told to...ex-expect you today, Sir."   
  
"Hey," Venomous started, raising his hands in an effort to calm the startled robot a bit.  "I won't be here long, don't worry. Lord Boxman mentioned I just had some forms to fill out."   
  
"Oh!  Yes, uh..."  The robot paused for a second, bringing up his two index fingers to tap them together a few times.  "I p-prepared those l-l-last night. Uh..." He looked around his desk for a second, then paused, and PV swore he saw the robot's dull red eye flash gray a few times, almost too quick to notice.   
  
"They'll be with, um, Ernesto number 2893."  The robot motioned towards the cubicle entrance.  "You'll want to turn the corner here, take the first left, then at the end of the hall take a right.  And it's, uh, right there." His head sunk a little into his collar. "Sorry."   
  
"It's no trouble, don't worry Ernesto."  PV stood to leave. "I guess I'll see...you in a second?"  He left the robot to happily return to his game.   
  
Around the corner, the professor passed a small water cooler area nestled in between two cubicles, where two additional Ernestos chatted over cups of a green liquid he did not wish to identify.  He took the first left turn just beyond this area, nearly bumping right into another Ernesto carrying a large stack of papers and apparently in a hurry, as he barely acknowledged him as he ran off.  He met two more in the long hallway, exchanging awkward waves as he passed.   
  
_ So, these are all the same robot?   _ Venomous went over his observations so far in his head, remembering Boxman’s explanation of the Darrell employees from earlier. _  And yet, he handles all this, no problem. _   
  
He wondered why on Earth he had never ordered an Ernesto to do all his paperwork at his old lab, but then stopped himself.   _ We're thinking of him as a person, now, not as a product... _   
  
As promised, at the end of the hall and just to the right was Ernesto 2893's desk.  Venomous expected, with the robot's hivemind, to be immediately greeted by the same Ernesto in simply a different spot, and to get right to business.  However, as with Ernesto 2814, he came across the robot distracted, this time entering data into a spreadsheet. Just as before, the professor knocked lightly on the cubicle frame, and just as before, Ernesto seemed...surprised to see him?   
  
"Oh, come in Professor!"  He minimized the spreadsheet, the monitor now showing a wallpaper with a completely different character that PV didn't recognize.  "You're here to, uh, fill these out, right?"   
  
Ernesto looked through the piles on his desk for a few moments, and pulled out a decent-sized stack of papers, somehow held together by a single large staple that had to be stretched to its limit.   
  
PV nodded in approval, and entered the cubicle proper.  "Guess we'd better get started."   
  
"Well, h-hang on, let me get the rest first."  Ernesto put down the small stack, and then scanned the desk again, pulling out a much larger one, with a full three-ring binder underneath it.  He put the small stack on top of the whole pile, then stood up, holding it all in his arms.   
  
"It, uh, might be easier to go to one of the break areas."  He glanced around his workspace bashfully. "It's a little cramped in here right now.  Sorry."   
  
"I...can see this."  PV backed out again, then allowed Ernesto to lead him further down the hall to an alcove with a small table, three chairs, and a vending machine, advertising "robo-snacks" along its top.  Another Ernesto was preparing to eat a "granola" bar made of metal shavings at the table, but on seeing the two approach with the papers he cleared out, leaving them alone to work.   
  
Ernesto sighed as he sat down and spread some of the papers across the table.  "I'm sorry again for all the mess in here right now, Professor. Usually I keep things in order, but these last few months brought in more orders than we've  _ ever _ had here at Boxmore, and even I can't really keep up with all of the paperwork."   
  
"Ernesto, it's okay.  I promise it doesn't bother me at all."   
  
"Oh.  Okay. Sorry."  The robot pulled out the binder and handed it to PV.  "You should, um, look through all of this when you get some time.  It's a lot of historical information about the company that I put together."  He averted his gaze for a moment, seeming to deflate a little in his chair. "Sorry I couldn't make the presentation a little nicer."   
  
"You don't have to keep apologizing either, Ernesto."  Venomous gave a patient smile. "You've literally done it three times since we sat down."   
  
"...Oh."  Ernesto kept looking down, as if repressing the urge to say "Sorry" yet again.  Finally, he pulled out the stapled stack of papers.   
  
"Okay.  So," He paused, staring at the number on top of the first page, and PV could barely hear a dull humming from inside Ernesto's head for a moment as he processed what he was looking at.  "These are all one form, dealing with the transfer of the board's majority stakeholder status to you, retaining minor shares, essentially finalizing the sale of Boxmore. I did almost all of it myself, but it does require three signatures from you, on pages 8, 18, and 35."  The robot opened to exactly the right pages as he spoke, without even needing to search for them, and passed PV a pen so he could sign as they went.    
  
"It still needs a signature from Lord Boxman as well on page 14, as co-majority shareholder, so I'll get it to him later, don't worry."   
  
Venomous just sat there in response, stunned at how the robot could recall and turn to the correct pages so quickly.  The form easily had over 40 pages by his estimate...   
  
"Now then."  Ernesto sat the stapled form aside and began pulling out loose papers.  As he pulled them out for Venomous to read over and sign, he carefully looked over each form number, then his eye flashed gray again for a millisecond as he processed and called up detailed information about each one.   
  
"Form 8072 is funding allocation for villain enterprises, it needs three signatures on these lines."  Venomous signed.   
  
"Form 98-B is legal adherence to the Villains' Act of 200X, acknowledging you consent to periodic government inspections and POINT monitoring.  Signature line is at the bottom." Venomous signed.   
  
"Form 99 is just a waiver that states you consent to POINT monitoring and intervention measures again.  They're really into that. Signature at the bottom again." Venomous signed.   
  
"Form 201-3 states government income and business tax rates for manufacturing.  You don't need to sign, but I'd recommend you read it later." Venomous didn't sign.   
  
"Form 13-C is an acknowledgement of absence of compensation and insurance liability for all factory employees, recategorizing them as exotic furniture."   
  
"...What?"   
  
"Just sign on these two lines."  Venomous signed.   
  
The stack of paperwork took around two hours to simply put a dent into.  After about two and a half hours of literally only writing his signature over and over, PV slumped back in his chair and groaned.   
  
"Please tell me this is almost done."   
  
"Only ninety-three more to go, Sir."  Ernesto pulled out yet another form, but PV rudely swatted it out of his hands.  Both paused for a second, before PV sighed and sat back.    
  
"Sorry about that.  I'm just...kind of losing it here."  He rubbed his forehead. "This is just exactly the kind of thing I bought Boxmore to get  _ away _ from..."   
  
"It is?"  Ernesto tapped his fingers together again, which Venomous assumed was just his little nervous tic at this point.  "Well, I, uh, I'm sorry to say it, Professor, but...I think you went into the wrong business for that."    
  
The robot shrunk a little in his seat.  "Or maybe that's just because I do this all day instead of fighting.  Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything..."   
  
Venomous looked over the remaining stack of papers, and the much taller stack of ones he'd signed.  "We did make progress, at least." He straightened up in his chair. "Do you think we could take a break for a few minutes, Ernesto?  Before I go completely insane?"   
  
"Oh, uh, sure.  I guess." Ernesto's eye scanned the room for a few seconds, and he shrugged.  "We are already in the break room, after all."   
  
"Thanks."  PV stood to stretch out a little.  However, with not much to do in the tiny room, he eventually had no choice but to return to his seat.   
  
"Ernesto, just out of curiosity..."  He tried to think of the best possible way to ask his question.  "How are you even able to do all of this?" He pointed to the stack of papers.   
  
"Um...what exactly d-do you mean, Sir?"   
  
"I mean...this."  PV gestured again, but realized he was making no sense even to himself.   
  
"Okay, look, I'm going to be honest here.  I literally stopped listening to you describing each form and reading it after about ten minutes, and I've just been signing where you pointed out for me to sign since."  He gestured to the pile a third time, now finally able to define the action correctly. "I honestly have no idea what  _ any _ of the things I just signed actually say."   
  
Ernesto looked almost hurt by the news, his eye drooping.     
  
"I don't mean to disrespect you, Ernesto!"  PV leaned forward, resting on his elbow. "I just...find it amazing that you can remember what each and every one of those forms are, and know so much about all of them!"     
  
"Oh, it's...um...not..."   
  
"I suppose that's why Boxman trusts you to handle all of the business matters."   
  
Ernesto looked sadly at the pile, and cleared his throat.  "Professor Venomous, I have no idea what any of those forms are either."   
  
"Wait, you...don't?"  PV squinted in confusion.  "You just described every single one perfectly."   
  
"Yes, I did..."  Ernesto closed his eye, seeming to search for words that didn't come to him nearly as easily as the form descriptions had.  "I just have to, um, look at the form number and load it from my database, and...and I know everything about it. And when I'm done, I replace it with the next database search."   
  
"Wait, you...you delete all of them from your memory right after you finish?"   
  
"Yes.  I...I have to make hundreds of searches every second, since there's 873 Ernestos live in the factory right now.  I need to delete them to keep my memory organized." He leaned forward a little, finally dropping his professional posture into a remarkably undignified slouch.  "Sorry, I guess I...kind of cheat a little."   
  
PV smiled.  "Ernesto, if that's cheating, please don't ever, ever play fair.  For your own good."   
  
"Uh...Thank you, Sir."  It was difficult to tell, but PV thought Ernesto was trying to return his smile.    
  
"Shall we get back to these forms, now?"  Ernesto picked up the top page from the unsigned pile and scanned it.   
  
"Form 666 is a copy of our consulting contract with Black Hat Org..."  He paused. "Should...I keep going, or just skip to where you need to sign?"   
  
"Please, skip."  Venomous signed the form.

With their shortened process, it only took 20 minutes to complete the rest of the paperwork.  With the forms finally,  _ finally _ finished, PV leaned back in his chair and let out a long, loud exhale, relieved to finally relax a little.  Ernesto followed suit in his own way, letting out air and even a little steam from somewhere around his neck as more of an exhaust function.  

“I feel like I just had every single tooth pulled, put back into my head, and pulled again.”

Ernesto’s eye widened.  “Don't you organics only have one set of those?”  He shifted uncomfortably once again. “S-Sorry.”

“No, no, you’re fine.”  Venomous laughed halfheartedly.  “We do, and you can speak up if you want.”

“Well, it’s just, we are still on the clock, Sir…”

“You’re kidding me.”  PV sat forward again. “I could have sworn we’ve been here all day.”

“No, it’s, um, only 2:13 PM,” Ernesto clarified.  “One of the first things Lord Boxman did once he was CEO again was remove our lunch breaks, so the day lasts a little longer.  In fact, I think he’d be just sending out today’s plaza attack now.”

Venomous groaned internally.  He had wanted to be there for that.

“Well, congratulations Professor Venomous, you are now the official majority shareholder and owner of Boxmore.  Legally.” The robot shook his hand, and gathered the papers back together. The two eagerly left the break room and returned to Ernesto’s cubicle to make sure everything was filed correctly, and to PV’s dismay this meant plopping it all right back onto the disaster area of a desk.

“Ernesto, I’m technically done for today, right?”

“Yes, Sir, this is all we really needed for now.”  He moved a few papers around to make some space. “Actually a very light business day.”

Just like in the first cubicle that Venomous had peeked into, the paper shredder was spilling over with tiny strips of paper, and the trash can had also not been emptied in some time.  He experimentally picked up a disorganized pile of spreadsheets off of the floor and tapped them against the top of the desk until the stack was much more uniform.

“I guess I’ve got a few hours to waste, then.  Perhaps I can help get all this in order?” He handed the spreadsheets to Ernesto, who just looked at him with an expression of shock.  “Because, honestly, this is just a mess.”

“You...you would…”  A tear fell from Ernesto’s eye.  “You’d actually... _ h-help? _  Me?”

PV shrugged.  “Why not. Doesn’t Boxman...ever…”  The tears streaming down the robot’s face answered the question before he could even finish it.  “Guess we’d better get started.”

While Ernesto scanned and determined which papers to shred and put the rest in their proper files, Venomous emptied out as much trash as he could, checking with other Ernestos in the office for directions to and from the nearest incinerator.  

The cleanup time passed much more quickly than when the two were filling out forms, and the end-of-day whistle blew from somewhere in the factory just as Venomous returned from disposing of the final shredder load.  He passed several Ernestos heading towards the break room to rest until the next work day, and arrived in time to catch Ernesto 2893 still there, admiring his clean, organized workspace.

“Now this is more like it!”  

Venomous set down the shredder back in its place.  “One down. Out of...you said 800?”

“873.”

“...Wonderful.”  

“It can wait, though.”  Ernesto removed his top hat, revealing a single metal spike underneath, and hung it on a hat rack in the corner of the cube as he yawned.  “I’m more than ready to call it a day.”

The stack of papers from earlier caught PV’s attention.  “Wait...didn’t you say Boxman had to sign one of these?”

“Oh.”  All of Ernesto’s confidence suddenly left him.  “I...I guess I can drop it off. But that’s it…”  He grabbed the form and turned to Venomous. “...because, to be fully honest now that I’m off the clock, I can’t stand paperwork either.”

  
  
\---

  
  
The office area was dark after work hours, with only some dim floor lights to guide Venomous through.  He could make out the cubicle numbers if he squinted, though, and searched for the desk of the particular Ernesto he knew he needed to return Boxman's signed form to.   
  
_ Turn right, past the water cooler, first left, down the... _   
  
A bright light and some unfamiliar, quiet roaring and popping noises coming from his destination cubicle caught PV's attention immediately.  Curious as to what Ernesto could be doing this late, he silently snuck up to peer inside.    
  
To Venomous' surprise, he found Fink there, her back turned to him and staring at Ernesto, with the robot’s eye glued to the monitor.   
  
"Switch to the shotgun you dummy!"  She pointed to the monitor lighting up the whole cubicle.  "You can't take out a whole army of 'em with just the nail bat!"   
  
"Fink, trust me for a second."  Ernesto paused, took a deep breath, then laid into the keyboard, clicking his mouse furiously.  PV couldn't see the carnage on the screen clearly, but he heard several loud cracks and thumps, as well as a lot of pained but inhuman shrieks, and Fink slowly went from anxious whining to excited cheering as she watched Ernesto play.  Eventually the battle sounds stopped, and the robot turned to his viewer.   
  
"You see, Fink?  The shotgun can cover a big area, but in a swarm that dense you just  _ can't _ be caught reloading every few seconds.  That's when they strike!"   
  
"That was amazing!"  She giggled, hopping excitedly beside his chair.  "Can you do that again?"   
  
"Well, let's loot these guys first, and see what we find in the basement..."   
  
Venomous smiled and laid the form on the floor slightly inside the cubicle, and just as silently as he'd arrived he left the two to their game.


	3. Jethro and Mikayla

The professor finally found some time to flip through the opening pages of Ernesto's binder the next morning during breakfast.  To his surprise, the first thing the robot had included were simple dossiers on all six Boxmore robots, with a page each of notes on their combat specifications, special abilities, and even a quick description of their personalities.  He had to remember to thank Ernesto especially for this first section, relieved that he could prepare for meeting the rest of the siblings.   
  
Everything beyond that first section of the binder was arranged in reverse-chronological order, with newer items included before older ones.  Venomous skimmed a few of Boxmore's more recent budget and sales reports, a few weapon schematics, and Lord Cowboy Darrell's plans for the rest of the quarter, now sadly outdated with Lord Boxman back in charge.   
  
Speaking of Boxman, Venomous ran his hand across the cyborg's shoulders once again as he let out a tiny moan, not daring to lift his face from the table.     
  
_Champagne, bad idea.  Running out to an actual karaoke bar after everyone else had gone to bed, worse idea._     
  
PV closed the binder and finished off his breakfast, while next to him Fink was completely engrossed in a game on her phone over her empty plate.  The three were alone in the kitchen this morning, with the robots having skipped breakfast. Venomous wasn't offended; the day before had been quite awkward, and he was pretty sure Boxman had mentioned they didn't actually need to eat.  The occasional family meals aside, perhaps it was best for them all to get more used to the newcomers first anyway.   
  
However, just as he'd gotten used to the empty kitchen, Venomous heard some very heavy and distinctly robotic footsteps coming closer from the hallway.  Darrell walked in, keeping his head turned away from the table as he loudly searched the cupboards and poured some bolts into a bowl.   
  
"Can you keep it down, son?"  Boxman still didn't look up. "Daddy's whole world is pain right now..."   
  
Darrell looked at his father and Venomous for a few seconds, then flipped on the nearby blender.   
  
"Darrell!"  Venomous leapt up and attempted to turn off the noisy appliance as the robot moved on to the fridge for milk.  He couldn't figure the thing out fast enough for his needs, though, and resorted to just unplugging it, and just as he got rid of the noise Fink looked up from her phone and cracked up laughing at the whole display.   
  
"Ha!  Good one, Glass Brain!"  Darrell immediately shot her a look of disapproval at the nickname, and Venomous turned his sights on pacifying this new conflict.   
  
"Now, now, let's not get into this today."  He laid a hand on Darrell's shoulder. "How about we just, you know, talk things o-"   
  
The robot suddenly shoved Venomous away from him, with the professor needing to grab the counter to stabilize himself after the impact.     
  
"Don't touch me!!"     
  
He violently threw the milk jug back in its place and slammed the fridge door.  "In fact, don't come anywhere near me, Professor!"   
  
The acidic tone he used hung in the air as the robot stomped back to his room and left the kitchen in silence, with even Fink unsure how to react to what she'd just seen.  Eventually she struggled to free herself from her high chair, and jumped down to her boss.   
  
"Are you okay?"  She scowled towards the door.  "If you want, I can go take 'im out!"   
  
"That won't be necessary, Fink."  He brushed off a bit of milk that the robot had accidentally spilled onto his lab coat, and thankfully it dripped right off of the waterproof material.  "I think maybe I should just give him some space. He's obviously a little upset with me right now..." An understatement, to be sure.   
  
"No kiddin'!  You just barely touched 'im and _slam!_ "  She smacked the side of the counter to illustrate her statement.   
  
"Let's lower our volume a little, Fink."  Venomous motioned back towards Boxman, now covering his head in his arms and whimpering.  "Come on, I've got some things in the lab you can help me with today, once I figure out what to do with him."

  
  
\---

  
  
He understood Boxman's yearning to return to his old life now; a home simply wasn't a home without a pristine, orderly lab of one's own.  The new expansion had been constructed amazingly quickly, with all of the factory's robots temporarily repurposed to complete it in just a few days, and one of the new additions Venomous was especially excited about was his brand-new bioengineering lab, replacing the one Boxman had destroyed.   
  
He just had to break it in.  Venomous had a few experiments in mind for that particular honor, and all that was left was to pick just one.  He paused at his completely empty workbench in the center of the room to think; with so many possibilities offered by his line of work, sometimes deciding was the hardest part.   
  
"Hey, Boss, how 'bout we blow something up today?"  Fink tugged on his lab coat.   
  
"We can, Fink..." He picked her up, placing her onto the table to more easily converse.  "But, don't you want to keep this place in one piece for just a little while?"   
  
"No way!"  She kicked at the pristine surface, christening it with a few scuffs from her boots.  "I thought you wanted to do _real_ villainy now.  So, let's destroy somethin’!"   
  
He smiled.  "Okay, okay, good point.  So, what are we gonna destroy today, Fink?"   
  
"Same thing we're gonna destroy every day now Boss, that stupid plaza that Boxboss hates so much!"  She hopped up and down on the table, as PV nervously held up his hands just in case. "I can't wait, it's gonna be so much fun!"   
  
"Sounds good.  Now, Fink, how do you think we should do it?"   
  
"Well, uh..."  She sat down again.  "How about...a big...bomb thing, that...turns people into ants!  And then I smash 'em!" She stomped her foot onto the table once again.   
  
_A mutagen bomb.  Not a bad way to break in the new lab._   
  
"So, where exactly would be the best place to put this bomb, so we can cause the most destruction with it, Fink?"  He grabbed a few beakers to prepare the chemical part of the payload.   
  
"Hm, what about in the sewer, so it all comes right up at 'em through the toi-"   
  
She stopped mid-sentence, rapidly glancing left and right, and even sniffing the air a bit, and her ears twitched as she listened closely to something PV couldn’t detect..     
  
"Boss, I think someone's watching us."   
  
"Hm?"  Venomous looked carefully around the lab.  Everything seemed to be in order, with all of the equipment and supplies completely untouched on their counters.  To assuage Fink's nervousness, he volunteered to even search behind the workbench and under a few tables off to the side.  Absolutely no intruders, he was certain.   
  
Fink's ear twitched again.  "You're hearin' that, right?"  The two were silent; there was indeed a noise, a very faint grinding and humming, like a faraway vehicle coming to a stop.     
  
"Fink, we do live in a literal robot factory now," PV tried to reassure her.  "There may be noises like that from time to time."   
  
"But not that close!"   
  
"Close?"     
  
The two heard it again.  The second time around, PV had to admit, it really did sound like a car or something, one of the ones with tank treads instead of wheels.  And he could just barely pick it out towards the door...   
  
Just as he glanced towards the sound, there was a momentary flash of motion, just inches from the floor -- something poking around the doorframe but immediately retreating.   
  
"HA!"  Fink pointed, having noticed the same thing.  "Intruder!!"   
  
"Hey!"  PV moved out from behind his workbench to try and see the visitor a bit more clearly.  "We know you're there now, so come on in and quit sneaking around."   
  
There were several seconds of silence, and then a tiny, blue robot peered as best he could into the lab.     
  
"Intruder..." Fink hissed again, but PV hushed her to try and coax out the robot.  Eventually, he seemed to gain some confidence, and rolled into the lab on tank treads, which PV recognized as the source of the earlier noise.  The entire time, he refused to break eye contact with Venomous.   
  
"Well, hello there."  PV dropped onto one knee to speak to the little robot at his own level.  "It's nice to officially meet you...um..." He tried to remember the name from the binder.  It was that J one...   
  
"I AM JETHRO!"  The robot bellowed out, in exactly the last voice Venomous expected.   
  
"I...see."  He smiled, not letting the robot detect his surprise.  "Nice to meet you, Jethro. Did you just come in to say hello?"   
  
"I AM JETHRO."   
  
"...Yes, I did hear you."  Venomous tried to keep up the smile, though the robot's expressionless stare became more and more unsettling.  Eventually, though, Jethro rolled forward a bit, allowing PV some relief as his face turned out of view. He rolled past Venomous' knee and behind him in a straight line...where he bumped right into the leg of one of the lab tables.   
  
PV paused.  "Are...you okay, Jethro?"   
  
Jethro backed up, and rammed the table leg again.   
  
"Um..."  Venomous turned to Fink, who was just as confused as him.   
  
As Jethro backed up again, PV gently caught and held him in place.     
  
"That's not nice, Jethro.  Do you need something?" The robot tried to back up again, but couldn't escape PV's grip.  He then tried to roll forward, which PV also prevented. "Do you...Can you even turn on your own?"   
  
He let Jethro go, and sure enough, he paced back and forth a little on his treads, seemingly unable to move either one independently of the other to change direction.   
  
“Only in a straight line, huh…”  Venomous gently turned him at an angle from his original path.  "There you go."   
  
Jethro revved forward and rammed another table leg.  This time, a glass beaker sitting on the table tipped and fell over, though thankfully without rolling off onto the floor and breaking.   
  
"Hey."  PV picked up the little robot, straining as he proved to be quite a bit heavier than expected.     
  
As soon as he was in the air, Jethro started running both of his treads rapidly.  He shouted once again, in a much more excited tone, "IAM JETHRO. I AM JETHRO!"   
  
"That you are."  Venomous placed him down, this time pointed away from any part of the table, and knelt again to speak to the robot at eye level.  "And running into tables like that is dangerous, with glass on them. Just let me know if you need turned, okay?" He wasn't sure how exactly he expected the robot to do so, but it was an effort.   
  
Jethro listened quietly, waited a second to process what PV had said, and backed into the table leg.  The glass beaker crashed to the floor, and Jethro rolled away triumphantly at full speed.   
  
"I AM JETHRO!!"   
  
PV facepalmed.  "Great..." Fink immediately fetched him a broom and dustpan, careful to step around the mess, and he got to work sweeping up the broken glass.   
  
After some rolling back and forth, eventually Jethro settled into one of the far corners of the lab, and as he seemed to have calmed significantly the professor turned him so he could watch them begin work on the bomb.  Fink didn't calm down, though, even with Jethro fully out in the open. Every few minutes as PV mixed some compounds and soldered a few wires on a small circuit board he'd swiped from Boxman, she would nervously kick at the side of the workbench again, and whip her head towards the door, or towards one of the air vents along the walls.     
  
"There's still something watching us, Boss," she said, with an uncharacteristic quiver in her voice.     
  
"It's not Jethro?"  PV glanced over at the robot, still contentedly staring at them from the corner, still without any discernible expression in his eyes.   
  
"No, he's fine."  She stared at one of the tables, against the wall.  "There's something else."   
  
Venomous followed her eyes.  All he saw was the table, a couple of chairs, a few pieces of glassware and lab equipment, one of which he must have forgotten to plug in...   
  
The stray plug slipped off of the table by itself.   
  
Suddenly, Fink screamed and launched herself off of her spot on the lab bench as something very big and very yellow leapt towards her, landing on the exact spot she had been sitting.  Venomous could barely take in the robot before it charged again, dropping to the floor as it dashed after Fink.

“M-Monster!!”

The robot roared in response, a high-pitched and hollow sound, admittedly more a blast of exhaust than a true voice.  Fink tried to hide behind the workbench but was almost immediately followed, and it turned into the two running a few laps around it and then expanding to the rest of the lab, screaming and hissing at each other as they went.

“Hey!  HEY!!” Venomous tried in vain to pacify the chaos happening around him.  He made a few attempts to step between Fink and her assailant, but ultimately the two were too fast for him to react, and one attempt even resulted in the yellow robot simply smashing into his knees, bowling him right over as it continued its pursuit without interruption.  “Okay, this has to stop!”

Even Jethro joined in, shouting a few “I AM JETHRO”s at his sibling.  It went completely ignored by all parties in the room.

Finally, desperate, PV lunged at the yellow robot, grabbing its back leg on his third try.  As the robot skidded along the floor and struggled to free itself, he adjusted his grip, managing to get his hands on its shoulders instead.  He lifted it right over his head in surprise, not anticipating how light it was, especially after his struggle to lift Jethro earlier.

Finally able to see it clearly, he recognized it as the yellow robot from the day before, and from the dossier.

“Mikayla!” she shouted, struggling in his hands.  She quickly twisted herself free, barely missing his head as she landed on her feet just next to the workbench, which Fink had again hidden behind.  As she paused to track her quarry PV grabbed her by the shoulders once more, lifting her up onto the workbench surface and scolding her.

“That’s enough of that, Mikayla.”  

The robot turned her head and caught Fink trying to quietly sneak across the lab floor towards the door, and launched herself at her prey again, beginning the chase anew before PV could restrain her.  This time, their route was not limited to the floor, as Fink tried to jump up onto the lab tables and counters to escape, maneuvers that Mikayla was more than able to accomplish herself. None of Venomous’ brand new lab equipment was safe, as machines and tools, not to mention glass, crashed to the floor.

In the confusion, Jethro excitedly rolled forward again, ramming himself into another table and shattering a few more beakers as they were knocked off.  He gained speed and smashed into the walls to turn himself, though without any coordination and just relying on being jostled in the right direction by pure chance, wreaking nowhere near as much havoc as his much more mobile sister but the spirit was there.

“What is even happening.”  PV was stunned, powerless to even move, let alone stop the madness that had completely consumed his formerly pristine, orderly lab.  

Eventually Fink found her way to her boss’ legs, gripping him tight and making a last-ditch attempt to hide behind him as she buried her face in the bottom of his lab coat.  Mikayla leapt right at PV, claws out, but he jumped out of the way, tripping over Fink and falling to the floor as Mikayla missed and crashed right into a cabinet. He took the opportunity to scramble forward and grab her again, this time keeping a tight grip as he got up with some difficulty and set her roughly onto the workbench.

“That.  Is. _Enough_.  Of that,” he repeated.  Mikayla turned her head to Fink again, but PV snapped his fingers, redirecting her attention back onto him as the little girl got up and escaped.  “No.”

“Mmmm, Mikayla…”  The robot pouted, no longer struggling to free herself from Venomous’ grip.  

On the floor, Jethro started pushing the discarded dustpan around in front of him, eventually escaping with it out the door with a hasty “IAMJETHRO!”  

“Great, so much for cleaning this up.  Mikayla,” Venomous began, “you cannot chase Fink around the lab, alright?  There’s a huge mess I have to clean up now!” With his free hand, he motioned towards the worst of it.  With his other, though, he had to once again restrain Mikayla as Fink came into view. “Hey! Keep looking at me, not at her!”

The robot made several agitated grunts, but once again gave up as PV held her down.  Seeing an opportunity to finally do so, Fink stuck her tongue out at her attacker, but then dashed back out of sight as Mikayla snarled.

“Fink, you’re not helping,” PV said as she ducked under a table.  “Let me handle this, okay?”

He turned back to Mikayla.  “So, I take it you’re a cat robot, with how you’re chasing after Fink.”  He looked over her odd form, indeed possessing a little bit of cat but also mixed with several other traits he could identify.  “Or...a chimera? Fascinating…”

Venomous had to hand it to Boxman on this one, her design was pretty wild, in more ways than one.  And yet, at the moment, her behavior was entirely that of a cat, and he had to distract her from searching for her prey a few more times as she whipped her plug tail around in agitation.

Suddenly she paused, holding perfectly still as a dull, rapid clicking came from inside Mikayla’s head.  Her tail stopped moving, in fact just held high behind her, and the robot changed her posture dramatically, going from resting on her hind legs to a full slouching position on the workbench, pulling her knees up.

PV just watched her change in behavior, confused.  As a test, he let go of her, allowing Mikayla to freely make her way off of the workbench, notably with a much heavier emphasis on her front legs and paws as she moved, and with her claws completely retracted.  She looked directly at Fink, the latter cowering and preparing to bolt, and just...sat there, cocking her head to the side as she watched her former prey, curiosity replacing hunting instinct.

After a few seconds, Fink snapped from the pressure and ran, once again taking shelter behind Venomous’ legs.  Mikayla let her go, even shuffling a little to sniff and examine the spot where she’d been under the table.

“So what are you now!”  With Mikayla seemingly completely uninterested in the chase, Fink gained enough confidence to come back out into the open, and bared her teeth at the robot.

“I...think she’s some kind of ape now.”  PV left Fink behind to approach Mikayla again, offering her a hand, which she gladly took and used as leverage to jump up onto the table’s surface.  “You’re a really good mimic, Mikayla. Can you show us another one?”

The robot murmured a little in response, then paused as her entire demeanor changed once again.  She leaned down as her legs splayed out to the sides, and laid her tail flat out behind her. This time, she stayed perfectly still, occasionally craning her neck at an angle to look around the room.  

Somehow, it was turning into a game of charades, and PV was stumped, until he offered Mikayla his arm again.  She brought her claws out, but only gently used them to help her climb up onto his shoulders, where she kept a tight grip on his coat as she laid calmly along the back of his neck.

“...Chameleon, I’m guessing?”  

She half-closed her eyelids, bringing her neck around to glance towards his face.  “Mikayla…” she groaned, her formerly agitated voice now completely relaxed.

“Well, you’re reptilian, I can tell that much.”  Venomous shook a bit to signal for her to make her way off of him, and she slowly climbed back down.  Almost as soon as she hit the floor, though, she stopped, and brought her “ears” forward as she scanned the room, her tail whipping aggressively again as she saw Fink and prepared to pounce.

Venomous snapped his fingers, and stepped in front of her to get her attention.  “Hey, we’re not gonna do cat again, alright?” Mikayla tried to jump around him, but he managed to catch her just in time.

An idea struck him.  “Why don’t you show me another one instead?  Can you mimic more than just those three?”

“Mikayla?”  She thought for a moment, then shifted a few more times, to a few unexpected behaviors that weren’t suggested by her appearance -- excitedly yapping and hopping around as a dog, with the pawing and investigating behavior he recognized from breakfast the day before, to snuffling and clawing at things as a badger, to extending her neck and lumbering around as a giraffe.  The robot even did a decent rat impression, which made Fink giggle as she joined in, indulging her own animal instincts. It seemed to Venomous that nothing with four legs was off-limits to the robot, though only one at a time -- Mikayla took a few moments as she switched each time, presumably to load the behaviors and physical configurations needed for each one.

“Do another, do another!” Fink laughed as she tired of rat mode, and pulled out a chair from the nearby table to sit instead.

Mikayla paused again, though instead of changing into another species she appeared very anxious, rat-style, sniffing the air and looking around the room rapidly.

“You okay?” PV got onto his knees to try and reassure her.  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m definitely curious what else you can do.”

She nervously tapped two claws together, in the same fashion he’d noticed Ernesto doing the day before.  A shared tic? “Mmmmm…”

“It’s okay.  Go ahead and show it to me.”

With PV’s approval, Mikayla placed her claws on the table, using them to slowly push herself into an upright, bipedal position.  Notably, though each time she had switched species she needed to pause and load the behaviors, this time she seemed to be doing it all on her own.  Using the table to help herself balance on her back legs, she looked up at Venomous expectedly.

His eyes widened.  “Human!”

“Mikayla!” she chirped in response, smiling wider.  But, though she’d obviously practiced her posture, she wobbled a little on her smaller feet and thinner back legs, and she gripped the table tightly for support.  Even with that, though, she eventually lost control, and began to topple over.

“Whoa!”  PV rushed to catch her and hold her up, grabbing her shoulders and pulling as she frantically clawed at the edge of the table with both hands.  With her light weight she was no trouble at all to lift, and eventually, she was upright once again, but still shaky on her feet.

“You’re a little top-heavy like this, kiddo.  There’s just...nothing supporting you.” He thought for a moment.  “Perhaps, if you had a lower center of gravity than it being all on your front legs, and more weight to stabilize your back ones…”

He sighed as an idea hit him.  Reluctantly, he called out to Fink, “Do you...know which box we packed that...thing in?”

She looked at him, confused.  “What thing?”

“The…” he hid his face in his hands in embarrassment, as it turned a darker shade of purple.  “The fanny pack you got me last summer.”

“Ooh!”  An evil grin spread across Fink’s face, and it added a taunting tone to her voice.  “I kept that with my stuff, since I didn’t want you to lose it, Boss! You never know when you’re gonna need it...”

“Can you just go find it for me?”  She dashed out of the lab, and Venomous turned back to his lab cupboards to search for something to serve as weights.  He came up with a few sealed bottles of solvent, just big enough to have some heft, and he used tape to attach two of them to the tops of Mikayla’s feet, with the result looking far sillier than he’d hoped.  

Confused, Mikayla lifted them to try and figure out PV’s plan.  However, as she stood on only one foot, she seemed to realize something, and she also lifted her hand from the table, swaying both of them to center herself.  She was able to balance.

“See?  Your whole body is light enough to move as an animal, but bipedal animals like humans need weight to balance on.  You just...don’t have enough holding you down.” She suddenly struggled, her legs wobbling again, and PV caught her.  “But...our weight is distributed. Can’t have it all on your feet.”

Fink returned with the fanny pack just then, stopping to stare at the robot with her odd new accessories.  “Why’s she got bottles on her feet?”

He placed a third one in the pack, and strapped it Mikayla’s waist, turning it so the bottle rested on her back.  “For an experiment. Mikayla, it’s rough right now, but can you try to walk like this?” He held his arms at her sides, to show that he was ready to catch her if needed, but without actually touching her, giving her space to move.  

She eventually took a few steps, then as her confidence grew she took a few more, moving beyond arm’s reach of the table.

“Mi-Mikayla!”  She hopped a little in excitement, able to land successfully to her own surprise.  “Mikayla!”

“You know what, I think I’ll work with Boxman to update your design a little, to add that weight distribution, and definitely make your legs stronger.  Maybe even a method to shift it around, to keep from messing with your animal forms....” She tried to jog away from Venomous, but stumbled a bit and collapsed to the floor as he failed to catch her in time.  Even with the extra weights, Mikayla was still wobbly, and the problem would definitely need a lot more work than just strapping a few bottles of solvent to her.

She shifted her behavior as he tried to bring her back up, keeping a humanlike posture but still slumping forward, once again balancing some of her weight onto her hands and arms.  The look in her eyes, though, was still distinctly human, or as close as she could get, and she chattered a little in gratitude.

“Mi-Mikayla.  Mikayla!” She took off her weights and passed them back to PV, her usual toothy smile spreading across her face, and moved towards the door to leave.

“You’re done already?”  

She nodded.  “Mikayla…”

“Well, for now I’ll keep these here if you ever want them.”  He passed them in turn to Fink, and turned back to the robot.  “Now, Mikayla, can you do me a favor?”

The robot stared, waiting for PV to continue.

“No more cat mode around Fink.  If you see her, I want you to promise that you’ll switch to something else, since you have a lot to choose from.”  He gently patted her head. “I want you two to get along, okay?”

Mikayla grunted in agreement, before dashing down the hall, leading with heavy thrusts with her front arms that suggested she was indeed remaining in ape mode.

He smiled.  Definitely not a bad first experiment to break in the new lab.

 

\---

 

Venomous kept working late into the night after the day’s excitement, long after he had put Fink to bed, trying to make up time.  The lab had been cleaned up (though PV still missed his stolen dustpan) and new glassware ordered, and the mutagenic compound was prepared, sitting nearby in a large plastic container.  The bomb itself still needed a lot of work, though, and the circuit board he was using proved to be more than a bit touchy as he de-soldered the wires and tried yet again.

The mechanical grinding and tank tread sounds from earlier easily reached his ears now that the factory had shut down for the night, and he tracked them as they approached down the hall.  Jethro rolled back into the lab, again lightly bumping into a table leg as he rolled straight forward.

“Hello again.”  PV walked over and turned the robot to look at him.  “Did you need something? Or did you want to watch me work?”

“I AM JETHRO.”

“I’m gonna need to think of a better way to ask…” PV muttered under his breath, as Jethro backed away from him a bit.  Then the robot revved up and crashed into his knee, though thankfully not hard enough to cause any harm.

“I AM JETHRO!” he repeated.

“Okay, how’s this?  I’ll let you show me what you want.”  Venomous stood up, allowing Jethro to roll forward.  They quickly worked out a nonverbal agreement where Jethro would pause and rock back and forth on his treads to signal he needed to be turned, and eventually PV got the direction right as they wandered out the lab door.

The little robot led him slowly in this manner down the hallway, up a few ramps, and, with assistance, around several corners, until they reached a nondescript door that opened automatically at their approach.  The room inside was dark, but PV soon found a lightswitch, taking in what he could as Jethro continued to move forward.  
  
Much of the room was covered in piles of trash, or rather, completely random objects -- Venomous could pick out numerous spare parts from all of the robots, a few staplers and cups, the occasional doll covered in skid marks, and several large stacks of books.  One pile even held the dustpan that Jethro had taken earlier, which PV was allowed to retrieve without contest. Nothing in the room was out of reach for even Jethro, he noted -- there were shelves and bookcases along the walls, but the only thing on them was dust.   
  
Jethro seemed to be rolling towards a large dog bed unceremoniously plopped in the middle of the cluttered room, but unfortunately at his current angle he couldn't quite hit the mark.  The robot stopped as he passed it, then reversed for a second, bringing himself back to a spot more in front of the bed, only to roll forward and miss again. The professor got the message, and gently turned Jethro so that he could successfully roll into the dog bed, where he paused and let PV turn him once again to face the door.   
  
"I AM JETHRO," he repeated in appreciation.   
  
"Yes, you sure are..."   
  
As Venomous turned to leave, though, Jethro suddenly fired up his treads once again and rolled out in front of his bed.  He reversed, slowly pushing it backward a bit to reveal a book hidden underneath. With it uncovered, Jethro rolled back into bed and looked up at PV expectedly.   
  
"Oh.  You want a bedtime story, huh?"  He smiled, and gently seated himself next to Jethro's bed on the floor.  He couldn't help but be reminded of a much younger Fink when she demanded to be read to every night.  Granted, Jethro was more of a...motion- and speech-challenged version of little Fink, but with what he’d been through that day Venomous figured he could make it work.   
  
He picked up the book, and finally read the title.  It was a scholarly journal, Reflections on Philosophy, published by Battleburg University Press.  There was a paper bookmark stuck right at the beginning of an essay on villainy as an essential part of the self.   
  
"...Wait, what?"  He glanced back at the little robot, who looked at him in an almost pleading manner.  Venomous sighed, and took out the bookmark as he began reading.


	4. Raymond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst, see how many sports puns you can count. :3 I'll give you a hint, not ALL of them are in Ray's dialogue!

Lord Boxman's wide smile broke into villainous cackling as he watched the day's attack through his ever-present blinds.  The Raymond he'd sent to Lakewood Plaza Turbo was fighting in top form, easily dodging fireballs and thrown debris, and retaliating with a barrage of...dodgeballs?  Venomous didn't question it.   
  
"This might be it, Professor!"  Boxman momentarily turned to PV, who was struggling to see much of the performance through the blinds.   
  
"Do we have to watch like this, though?"   
  
"Of course!  You can't just  _ watch _ a fight like this!"  The instant Boxman turned his eye back to the battle, though, Raymond caught one of his own dodgeballs in the face, thrown at high speed by that alien boy at just the right angle to knock him off balance.  The child hero he'd held in his hands squirmed free, and delivered a glowing punch to Raymond's chest before he could recover -- the robot exploded into a shower of metal and sparks as his glorb core destabilized from the impact.   
  
"No..."  Boxman tightly squeezed his blinds with his human hand, snarling at the change of fortune.   
  
After just a short delay, a conveyor belt sticking out of the wall near Boxman's desk began moving, and a loud bell sound announced the arrival of a new Raymond, with the recently-slain one's consciousness already loaded.  Before Raymond even fully entered the office, he had tears streaming down his angular face.    
  
"Father, send me again, please!"  The large robot collapsed to his knees to tug on the bottom of the seated Boxman's coat, a somewhat amusing sight given that kneeling barely removed much of his height at all, and he still came up to Boxman's shoulders.  "I had him! I swear, I had that little brat right in my hands! Just put me back in, Coach!"   
  
Boxman just swatted Raymond's metal claws away.  "No. You had your shot, and you  _ blew it!! _ "  He sighed, turning his chair back to his desk.  "This is why Darrell shouldn't have been in charge.  He didn't bother to attack the plaza nearly as much as he should have!  You've all gotten  _ lazy _ ."   
  
"But...But..."  Raymond curled up a little on the floor at his father's feet.  "I...had him..."   
  
"Boxman," Venomous interrupted, covertly leaning down to pat Raymond's shoulder to comfort him.  "Why don't we try something else to destroy the plaza, instead of just sending one of the robots again?  I've been working on a few ideas..."   
  
"R-Really?"  PV had Boxman's full attention.  He dug through a large duffel bag that he'd sat in the corner of the office earlier and pulled out a large missile, struggling to balance its weight in both hands.   
  
"Why not load those "Lakewood Losers'" biosignatures into this special missile, and let it target them specifically?"  He held the device up for emphasis. "It's...technically illegal to fire this thing within the state, but I've been talking it over with Ernesto, and he thinks he  _ might _ be able to get Boxmore legally reclassified as an offshore drilling platform."   
  
Boxman looked the weapon over, at first intrigued, but then rubbed his chin and frowned.   
  
"...Nah, I'm just gonna send a Darrell."   
  
"WHAT!!"  Raymond screamed in despair as Boxman slammed the button on his desk again.  Somewhere in the factory a box formed around Darrell and...somehow transported itself into the sky over the plaza, the full process causing a very distinctive sound as tiny wormholes opened and closed and the box crashed down.   
  
"You still need to show me how in the world you managed to harness localized wormhole transportation to send those," Venomous remarked as he set the heavy missile back down and peeked through the blinds at Darrell, who emerged from his box charging forward with his arm cannon blazing.  He lasted all of three seconds.    
  
The conveyor belt whirred to life once again to deposit a new Darrell into the office, with a sour look on his face from the near-instant loss.  Upon emerging and seeing PV, the robot's demeanor dropped even further, and he simply harrumphed his way out of the office and slammed the door without a word.   
  
"Ugh.  See what I mean, Raymond?  Lazy. All of you." Boxman shoved his chair back, letting it crash into the blinds as he stood, obviously trying to keep his own frustration in check.  "I just...think I need a snack. From the vending machine  _ across the factory _ .  Professor Venomous, do you want anything while I'm up?"   
  
"Oh, uh, sure."  PV fixed the blinds and replaced Boxman's chair as the latter walked towards the door.  "We got that new soda in the vending machines, right?"   
  
"Oh yes, that super-fizzy one!  I'll get you one right away!"    
  
Boxman dashed out the office door, and within 30 seconds he returned with a can of soda...which he nonchalantly tossed across the room with a smile.  "What do ya know, there was one right here! I'll be back!"   
  
The can landed on the floor and bounced a couple of times as Venomous tried and failed to catch it in time.  As he finally picked it up he paused, noticing a tiny warning on the label: "CAUTION: Highly explosive if shaken!  Do not use for pranks without adult supervision!" 

Even if it was stable, he didn't dare open that thing anytime soon.   
  
Still curled up next to the desk, Raymond watched the professor, and finally spoke up.     
  
"Is...something the matter with it?"   
  
"No, I'll just...give it a minute."  Still carefully holding the can, PV at first leaned against the desk, then slumped down onto the floor next to the robot, figuring it might be better for him to finally speak to Raymond on his own level.  The robot was Boxmore's pure combat model, without as much presence throughout the factory as his more versatile siblings, and as this was the first time Venomous had actually participated in one of Boxman's daily plaza attacks it was also the first chance they had to truly meet.   
  
Oddly, though, this time it was Raymond who tried to reach out to Venomous.   
  
"Were you able to watch the megafootball championship last night?"   
  
"Uh..."  A much younger Venomous had been at least familiar with the local megafootball league, but as an adult his interest in sports was...lacking, to say the least.  "Can't say I did. Did someone...win?"   
  
Raymond just stared at him, or at least, he kept looking at PV out of the corner of his eye.  He then turned his pointed face down, seeming to be a little ashamed that that question was the best he could come up with.  Or, seemed to be just...ashamed in general.   
  
"Raymond, are you okay?"  The robot's eyes teared up yet again at the question, and he shifted uncomfortably.   
  
"No, of course I'm not okay!  Coach Boxdad thinks I've grown lazy and I can't even make a single scratch on one of those Lakewood Lowlifes!"  Fresh streams of tears poured from his eyes. "I'm nothing! I'm less than nothing! I'm...just a...benchwarmer!"  At this final word, Raymond slumped onto PV's shoulder, huge sobs wracking his massive frame.   
  
Venomous recalled Ernesto's dossier on Raymond, and the notes on his personality.  The word "dramatic" had been underlined six times.   
  
"I just..."  The robot pulled back, attempting unsuccessfully to wipe the tears off of his face.  "I just wanted to impress Father, after he'd been away for so long. And I'd wanted to impress you as well...uh..."   
  
"Hey, you did impress me today, Raymond."  Venomous tried to reassure him with a patient smile.  "I've never seen a fight like that. You really did almost have it, if it weren't for that one hit..."   
  
The robot shuddered at the mention of his mistake, and PV changed his strategy.   
  
"Here, I think you've earned this.  For impressing me." He lightly tossed his can of soda to Raymond, careful not to shake it up again now that it had mostly settled.   
  
To his surprise, Raymond's arm was in place to catch it before it even left Venomous' hand.  The robot studied the can for a moment, but then tossed it back.   
  
"Pass.  I've never been a fan of the stuff.  I'd rather just play catch with it than drink it."   
  
An idea formed in PV's mind, that might finally break the awkwardness between the two.  "You want to? At least, until Boxman gets back?"    
  
Sure, a can of soda was an odd choice for the game, but the more he thought about it, the more it fit.  A small, easily-thrown object that, like the actual game that every child played and knew quite well, could explode at any second, marking the game's loser.   
  
"Well, uh, that...wasn't exactly a suggestion in earnest, but I suppose I'll accept.  If you feel you can keep pace with me..." Raymond stood, easily a full head taller than even PV, and with his massive, top-heavy frame he was indeed quite intimidating, especially when he then narrowed his eyes and smirked.  "Perhaps a true victory is what I need after such a foul play, don't you agree..." Raymond seemed to hesitate at the end of his statement, pursing his lips as if there were a word he was missing, but quickly regained his composure.   
  
One hopeless loss for Venomous, coming right up.  He had never been that great at the game, but then, he hadn't exactly played much, even with Fink -- and he couldn't recall ever winning against her when they did.  He backed up towards the far wall of the office, allowing Raymond to move forward so Boxman's desk wasn't in his way, and made a gentle underhand toss.   
  
Once again, before the can was even in the air, Raymond had correctly calculated and moved into its path, and it sailed right into his hands.     
  
"Please, don't handicap yourself on my account," he taunted.  He chose an underhand return toss as well, but much faster than Venomous' -- the latter was able to catch the can easily, as Raymond had generously aimed right for his hands, but the metal  _ stung _ .  PV needed a few seconds to shake the pain out before his throw.   
  
Eventually, after a few volleys of watching Raymond seemingly predict exactly where the can would end up, Venomous started to notice what was actually going on.  During the entire game, the robot's red eyes never once deviated from him, not even to track the can as it flew -- Raymond was paying close attention to his every move, calculating his steps, his eye movement, and possibly even the muscle contractions in his arm to determine the throw speed, all before PV had even completed the actions.  All of those factors could be easily used to calculate the can's target and the exact arc it would soon make in the air, allowing Raymond to simply be there first.   
  
In Raymond's case, catching the can wasn't about following the object itself, but following the thrower, just as he had done in combat with the kids across the street to avoid their projectiles.  Professor Venomous, without the benefits of a brain specifically programmed for such activity, was fighting a losing battle.    
  
Still, though, PV decided he wouldn't make it too easy for him.  He decided to shake things up (metaphorically) this time, and stood perfectly still, keeping eye contact with Raymond...as he suddenly lobbed the can at a wide angle, towards the wall rather than towards his opponent.  These tricks didn't stop the robot, though, as he dashed to get in position without delay and snatched it out of midair once again.   
  
"Heh, nice try!"  Raymond was beaming at the extra challenge, and offered one of his own, tossing high and aiming for the wall above PV's head.  He was barely able to jump up to grab it, avoiding a rather messy loss.   
  
"Yeah, I'm not going down easy, don't worry."  Venomous figured another normal throw would make the robot a bit more complacent again, and began planning his next tricky move, if he made it that far.   
  
But, though Raymond's catch was just as perfect as before, something went wrong.  Either he squeezed the can just a tiny bit too hard, or he accidentally punctured the thin aluminum with his razor-sharp claws, and there was a sharp hiss as the can disintegrated and soda spewed out in a massive spray.  He dropped it in surprise, but not before he and the carpet underneath him were both completely soaked.   
  
Raymond made a grunt somewhere between shock and annoyance, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the sticky soda off of his chassis and lightly running his claws through his now limp, wet hair, in an attempt to push it out of his face.   
  
"Oh boy..."  Venomous had been fully prepared to be the one to eventually lose their game, and be drenched with soda.  So much for cheering Raymond up with a victory.    
  
"I'll...get you a towel or something.  Just wait here."   
  
Raymond held up his hand.  "Please, it's far from necessary."  There were a few dull clicks and a beep from somewhere inside his torso, and he suddenly self-destructed right in the middle of the office, leaving nothing besides twisted, sticky chunks of scrap metal behind.   
  
_ Oh.  Right.  The children explode. _  How could he have forgotten so quickly?   
  
Yet another Raymond rolled in on the conveyor belt, and as he emerged he ran his claws through his hair, checking to make sure his pompadour was once again perfect.  He sighed in relief.   
  
"Much better.  In fact, dare I say, exquisite!"     
  
"Well, I don't know about that..."  The two kicked the metal debris out of the way, but the carpet was still soaked, making horrible squishing sounds as the they stepped onto the spot.  "We definitely want to get this cleaned up."   
  
"Oh, I wouldn't worry yourself, um..."  Raymond stopped, seeming to be searching for a word as before, but skipped ahead.  "When Father goes for walks to calm himself, it can take some time for him to return."  He lightly poked PV's arm a couple of times. "Come with me. I believe amateur hour is over."

  
  
\---

  
  
Raymond quickly jogged to and from his room, and retrieved two catcher's mitts, as well as a drawstring bag containing a number of baseballs, strapped to explosive timers -- proper equipment for the game.  They relocated from Boxman's office to an open section of the factory floor just below, near a non-functional conveyor belt; as they approached PV saw one of the Darrells shutting a service panel on it and retreating.   
  
Raymond passed the first ball to the professor, and slipped on his mitt.  "I'll allow you a home field advantage. Enter whatever time you dare."   
  
Venomous thought for a moment, then pressed 2, 0, 0 on the ball -- two minutes of play, then it would explode, leaving whoever was holding it at that moment the loser of the game.  Just enough for a short, simple match. He hit the button to start the timer, and threw.   
  
Their difference in skill was quite apparent, perhaps even more so than in the office.  PV threw fine, even surprising himself on occasion, but some of Raymond's throws proved difficult for him to catch, even with a mitt.  Occasionally he missed the ball entirely, needing to take several extra seconds to chase after it and reposition himself to throw, pretty much ensuring that he was more likely to have it when the timer ran out.    
  
Raymond didn't miss a single ball.  There was simply no way Venomous could get a throw past him, until an orange hand came out of nowhere to slap one off course.  For the first time since they'd began playing, Raymond's precalculated position was wrong, and the ball whizzed past his head. He immediately turned to search for the culprit, spotting her sitting on the idle conveyor belt behind him.    
  
"Sister!  What the heck!"   
  
"Whoops!"  Shannon retracted her extended arm and laughed.  "Guess you finally missed one, loser!" She retrieved the ball, which had come to a stop at her feet, and tossed it back to Raymond as she started jogging away.   
  
The instant the ball made it into his hands, it exploded.     
  
"LOSER!"  Shannon repeated, shouting as she broke into a run.   
  
"Yeesh..."  Venomous was somehow, against all odds, two for two with the sports robot.  He watched as Raymond dropped to his knees, the blank shock on his face drooping once again into despair, and he passed the robot a new baseball.   
  
"Here.  Why don't you set the timer this time?"   
  
Raymond took the ball, but his demeanor didn't change.  "What would even be the point? I'll only lose once more!"     
  
"Nah, I wouldn't count that one, Raymond.  Shannon was just...interference, I guess?" Raymond suddenly perked up at hearing Venomous' attempt at a sports pun.   
  
"Hey, yes...she did run an interference play!  An error on the field." He gripped the ball tighter.  "I will take my free throws, then, uh..."   
  
He paused, then turned to PV and sighed.  "Alright, time out. I can't do this any more.  Professor Venomous, what may I call you?"   
  
"I'm...sorry, what?"  Venomous squinted in confusion.     
  
"I'm just not sure what to call you.  I have Coach Boxman, but you...I've been stuck on it all day.  Do I call you Coach Venomous, or Professor Coach? Perhaps even General Manager?"   
  
The professor had noticed that Raymond had unique ways to address his family members, far more formal than the terms the rest of them used for each other.  Even Lord Boxman was never just 'Dad' with Raymond, who seemed to switch between 'Father' for some interactions and 'Coach' for others. However, he hadn't really thought about gaining such a nickname himself...   
  
Raymond interrupted his thoughts, still trying to explain himself.  "Father has become close to you, and I truly wish it as well. But, I just...find it very difficult to speak to you without a title to use."   
  
"Raymond," he started, "you can call me whatever you want.  It doesn't have to be anything special. Even just 'Professor Venomous' is fine."   
  
"I can't just call you that!"     
  
"Why not?"   
  
"Well..."  Raymond tapped his fingers together; Venomous began to wonder if this was just a Boxman family trait at this point.  "That's your name, it's what everyone else uses. But I'm not just 'everyone else'..." He glanced at the timer in his hand.  "At least, I wouldn't be if my batting average in battle were just a little higher for once."   
  
"You'll figure it out, Raymond."  PV smiled. "Everyone has off days.  Or, uh..." He tried to think of another sports pun, but came up dry.  "Off...seasons? Never mind."   
  
"Bye weeks?"   
  
He shrugged.  "I guess. Anyway, you'll come up with something, and I'd love to hear it when you do.  And come on, maybe you'll win this game."   
  
Raymond stood again, and quickly set the timer.  "I'll give it one more shot, then. I've still one more strike before I'm out..."   
  
This time, Venomous kept his eye on the ball's timer as he caught it.  Raymond ultimately hadn't set it for long, only three and a half minutes, and as the seconds counted down he delayed his return throws.  Just enough that, if he timed it right...   
  
As he made the final catch, he felt the ball click and then burst into a flash of light and smoke in his hand.  Finally, Raymond had won, and the robot wasted no time in celebrating his victory.   
  
"Yes!  Finally!!"  He laughed triumphantly, bringing his claws up to his mouth.  "A slam dunk!"   
  
"Yep, you got me in the end."  Venomous wiped the soot off of his face.  However, as he approached the bag to grab another ball, he noticed Boxman quickly approaching them from the direction of his office, scowling and carrying a bag of chips.   
  
"So.  Which one of you wants to tell me why my office is covered in soda?"   
  
"Assistant Coach did it."  Without missing a beat, Raymond pointed at PV, taking a step back.  Venomous could only stand there stunned, trying to put together an adequate explanation for leaving such a mess behind, but was amused at the nickname Raymond had finally settled on.   
  
But against expectations, Boxman simply drew in a deep breath with his nose, exhaling it through his mouth.  He looked up at the two with a tired yet calm smile. "You know what? I'm not even gonna worry about it now.  Can just get Darrell to clean it up later." He made his way to the conveyor belt where Shannon had been sitting earlier, and started snacking on his chips.   
  
"Well?  Don't let me stop you.  Show me what you got, PV!"   
  
Raymond glanced at the professor.  "Well, it seems our game is going into overtime.  Round four?"   
  
Venomous nodded, allowing the robot to set the timer once again.


	5. Shannon

Once again, Venomous spent some time with the binder he'd gotten from Ernesto, now on a section with many of the original four Boxbots' concepts and early designs.  He came to a page with a young Shannon blueprint, detailing her internal structure and the materials that she'd need to be made of to facilitate her shapeshifting, as well as each of their melting points.  He chuckled a little at just how small she had once been -- a far cry from the teenager who was entertaining Fink at a table in a corner of the lab. In fact, he compared the height specified in that blueprint to his minion's -- Shannon had actually been _smaller_ at that point.   
  
"Fink, you can't take all the blue ones!  I need those!"   
  
PV looked up.  The two were still drawing, though not exactly quietly.  Every now and then one of them would burst out laughing, the already loud sound echoing through the silent lab, and sometimes they would suddenly bicker on which crayons they needed, which usually didn't last long.   
  
"Clouds aren't even blue, you dummy!  The sky's blue, and I need all these crayons to finish it!"   
  
"The sky's supposed to be white!  You're ruining it!"   
  
Venomous just sighed.  At least Fink knew her colors.  He turned the page, flipping through some early Darrell schematics and blueprints next.  One page in particular stood out, and PV wondered if it was even meant to be included: A concept drawing of the robot's braincase, showing exactly how his robotic circuits connected to the organic tissue, and some equations scrawled out here and there detailing how the electrical signals could be pre-converted for easier backup on a server.  Very, very different from the usual blueprints just showing off how many weapons could theoretically be shoved into each robot.   
  
He recognized some of the designs as being copied from old reports on cyborg construction and wetware computing, though much of it was completely original, and...genius.  He'd never realized that Boxman had this particular kind of engineering experience at all, let alone to this level.   
  
Below the drawing was a small table (written in admittedly hard-to-read chicken scratch) showing the pros and cons of using an organic CPU to control the robot.  He noticed that the con side took up more than twice as much space as the pro side, and right at the top of it he could barely make out the words "human emotions," circled in red ink, with "need to figure out what those are" hastily scrawled in a nearby margin.     
  
_So, wait, if this is his actual design..._   
  
If Darrell was capable of true human emotion, did that mean his siblings ultimately weren't?  Venomous glanced over at Shannon once again. She seemed to have calmed down from her brief argument with Fink, smiling wide as she colored with an orange crayon this time, and proudly held up her drawing to show Fink.  Without the blue crayons available to her, she'd decided to change her sky to sunset colors, with orange and pink clouds, to her fellow artist's approval.   
  
With all of the Shannons he'd bought as lab assistants in the past, it had been very obvious they were robotic, possessing only simple AI and rudimentary personalities.  They were simply made to follow orders, nothing more -- a way of thinking he’d been trying to steer himself from as he got to know the siblings as actual people. The joy on this particular Shannon's face seemed genuine, betraying absolutely no traces of her programming.  As was the confusion when she caught PV watching her, and excitement as she beckoned him over to the table and held up her drawing. "Well? I think it's perfect now!"   
  
He leaned in closer to examine the work.  "I love it. But, I can't say I've ever seen an orange cloud before..."  Beside him, Fink smirked.   
  
"You've never seen one?  How could you _not?_ "    The robot backed up from the table a bit and, glowing a bit as her internal heaters activated, reshaped herself into a floating orange cloud, with her smug face still present in the middle.  "See?"   
  
PV scratched his chin.  "Well, I guess I can't argue with that."  Beside him, Fink frowned.   
  
"Boss, that's not fair!  She's cheating!" She threw down her own drawing and stood on her chair, pointing at the Shannon cloud.  "Just 'cause you turn into an orange cloud doesn't make it exist!"   
  
Shannon shapeshifted back into her usual form, her eyes narrowing as she leaned over Fink.  "Yes it does too!"   
  
"No it doesn't!"   
  
"Yes it-"  Suddenly there was that distinctive sound of a mini-wormhole opening, and the base of a large box appeared at Shannon's feet.   
  
"Dangit, I'll be right back."  The box closed around her and lowered into the floor, and the whole room shook slightly as it crashed down far in the distance.   
  
"So, that just happens, huh."  PV turned to Fink, who was just as shocked as him.     
  
"Is she attacking the plaza now?"   
  
"I guess so.  Didn't realize it was that fast."  He examined Fink's drawing, with its entire top half haphazardly covered in medium blue crayon, significantly darker than the shade usually used for the sky.  He had no idea what any of the abstract, multicolored scribbles on the bottom half of the piece were supposed to represent at all.   
  
"I have to say, yours is excellent too, Fink."   
  
It wasn't more than a few minutes before Shannon made her way back to the lab, pulling out her chair and plopping down next to Fink again with an annoyed look on her face.   
  
"Didja win?"   
  
"Pfft, no."  Shannon rolled her eyes.  "They broke off my saws, punched me in the face, threw a trash can at me _with_ trash, got me all tangled up when I turned into a catapult, and then exploded me!"  She counted off each offense on her fingers as she spoke. "And then I tripped over Jethro on my way back here!"   
  
Fink laughed.  "Man, you guys lose every time, don't you?"     
  
Shannon glared.  "Hey, I'd like to see you try it.  It's harder than it looks."   
  
"Maybe I will!"  Fink turned to PV, who had resumed his reading at the lab bench.  "Can I, Boss?"   
  
He simply turned the page, not looking up. "You'll have to run that one by Lord Boxman."      
  
She pouted for a moment, but then turned back to Shannon.     
  
Maybe we can train for it, so we're both ready!"  she suggested. "I saw it in a movie, this kid lost every fight, but then he started practicing a lot and good a lot better, and then at the end he finally won!"   
  
" _Train?_  Please, do you even know who you're talking to?"   
  
"Yeah, a loser who loses fights."  Shannon glared at Fink for the remark.   
  
"Okay, then."  She stood, attempting to crack her knuckles, though her metallic joints made little noise from the display.  "You think I'm just some loser, huh? I'll show you..."   
  
"I'm ready!"     
  
PV looked up just in time to see Fink launch herself at Shannon, gripping tightly onto her neck and bashing her fist onto her head.  In response, the robot hurled Fink onto one of the lab counters, knocking a few glass containers to the floor. "Nice try, but you can't catch me off-guard!"   
  
"Guys!"  Venomous rushed over and grabbed Fink by the shoulders, lifting her up onto the lab bench out of Shannon’s reach.  "Look, you can spar all you want, but please, not in the lab." He looked sadly at the glass scattered across the floor.  "I just replaced those..."   
  
Shannon crossed her arms.  “Well, where are we gonna go, then?"     
  
"Anywhere else."  He sighed.  "In fact, follow me.  Think I know a good spot."

  
  
\---

  
  
After taking a few moments to clean up the broken glass, Venomous led the two to a large, high-ceilinged part of the factory expansion that was still under construction, empty save for some wooden scaffolding and a folding chair in the corner, which he immediately set up for himself.   
  
"Look, if you're gonna play-fight, do it here for now, where you won't cause any real damage."  He sat down to supervise, rubbing his temples at the thought of replacing all of the glassware they had just wrecked yet again.   
  
Fink studied the room a bit, and giggled.  "Okay, this is perfect! We can train all day here, and when we go to fight those plaza losers together we'll be unstoppable!"   
  
"Sounds good, Fink!"  Shannon's wrist flipped outwards, and she extended out a piece of metal that was immediately shapeshifted into a very large buzzsaw, which she whipped around menacingly before launching herself directly towards her opponent.   
  
"Let's do it!"   
  
"Wait, wait!"  Venomous got in her way and held up his hand to stop Shannon's charge, only realizing after the fact just how monumentally stupid such a move was.  Thankfully, though, she saw him and stopped before she sliced his hand right off.   
  
"One rule, though, Shannon.  No sawblades."   
  
"Aw what."  She reluctantly withdrew her blade back into her wrist.  "But I like sawblades."   
  
"You can use them whenever you want, Shannon, just not this time."  He motioned towards Fink. "She can't respawn like you guys, you need to remember that."   
  
"Boss, you don't think I can take it?"  Now Fink glared at him. "I'm not a baby!"   
  
"I know you're not, Fink.  But I want you _alive_ at the end of this.  And Shannon," He turned back to the robot, pouting over PV's lone rule.  "This isn't against you, either. In fact, let's make it a challenge, okay?"   
  
She perked up.  "What kind of challenge?"   
  
"I'd like to see what else you can do."  He smiled. "Show me how you can fight, without relying on your saws."   
  
"Fine, shouldn't be too hard," she boasted.  "Hope you're ready Fink..."   
  
"I been ready since we were in the lab!  Let's fight already!"   
  
Again without warning, Fink dashed towards Shannon, this time on all fours and circling around to try and catch her from behind.  In response, though, Shannon transformed herself into a large, orange rocket, blasting out of Fink's reach and cackling as she then twisted in midair.   
  
"You wanted to see what else I can do, Professor Venomous?  Watch this!" She redirected herself towards the ground and fired her thrusters again, her impact throwing Fink clear of a new crater in the floor.   
  
Before Fink could even get up Shannon was on top of her, shifting into a giant hammer and preparing to smash, but the minion rolled out of the way.  She jumped onto the hammer-Shannon's back and tried to bite down, grunting a little as her teeth only hit hard plastic and metal.   
  
"Ew!"  Shannon threw herself backwards, trying to catch Fink yet again, but the latter leapt off in time.

“You might wanna actually hit me next time, robo-loser!” she taunted.  
  
Shannon growled, and momentarily switched back to her usual form, but then shifted into a large cannon, pointed right at Fink and, unfortunately, at Venomous sitting behind her.   
  
"Eat fireball you rat!!"     
  
Fink dashed to the side as a massive slug of metal, indeed heated to the point that it was engulfed in flames, shot out of Shannon, continuing to its next target.   
  
"Shannon!!"  PV jumped out of the way just in time to avoid the blast, which thankfully went over his chair and crashed into a small pile of planks behind it, setting them alight.   
  
"Okay, one more rule!" he shouted, "No setting things on fire!"   
  
"Augh!  What the heck is with you and all these rules!!"  She shifted back to her base form and stomped over to PV, who was already ripping off his lab coat to smother the flames.  "We're not in the lab, I'm not using my saws, and now you don't want me to set things on fire? Why can't you just let us have a damn fight?"   
  
"Shannon, please don't curse in front of Fink."   
  
"ANOTHER rule?!"   
  
"Pssh, I've heard worse," Fink muttered.   
  
"Look," Shannon started, her tone softening, "if you're so freaking worried about me hurting pwecious wittle Fink over there, why don't you get in here and fight me instead?"   
  
"It's not..."  He turned around, seeing his minion baring her teeth and getting ready to pounce onto the robot again and start the battle anew, and sighed.   
  
"Okay, yeah, I don't want you hurting Fink.  She's not a robot." He shot Fink a disapproving look.  "You're done, kiddo, no more."   
  
"Aw, but...but..."  She stepped forward, her eyes pleading with PV, but he held his ground.  "...Fine."   
  
Shannon crossed her arms again, absentmindedly kicking around a piece of floor tile that had gone flying during her rocket attack.  "So, how are we supposed to train now, Professor Venomous?"   
  
"Come on, you can do it!"  Fink tugged on Venomous' pant leg.  "Fight her! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"   
  
He shut his eyes tightly, considering the request, and sighed.  "Well, it's been a while, but..." He folded the coat and gently handed it to Fink as she chanted.  "I'll give it a try."   
  
"Yeah!"  The child waved her arms and cheered as Venomous stretched a bit, finally adopting a ready stance as he allowed the robot to make her first move.   
  
"You know, I was going easy on Fink..."  Shannon’s face broke into a near-maniacal grin.  "Here's my own challenge: Keep up with me when there's _no fucking rules!_ "   
  
"Language!" PV yelled, but Shannon sprouted a pair of buzzsaws from her legs and skated away.  She quickly gained speed and jumped at the wall, cutting deep gouges into the surface and using it as a platform to launch herself right into the scaffold, sending it crashing down right on top of the professor.   
  
He braced for the shower of wooden debris, sidestepping most of it easily, and caught a large plank, hurling it at Shannon's shape in the dust.     
  
She sawed it right in half with a kick, and came flying out of the dust fist-first.   
  
PV blocked the first punch with his arms, then dodged the second, stepping to the side and throwing a punch of his own right to the side of Shannon's head, which the robot didn’t even bother to try and dodge.  It was like punching a brick wall.   
  
"Ha!  Didn't even hurt!"  Shannon brushed off the impact immediately -- Venomous was unable to tell if she truly didn't feel it or just didn't care -- and peeled out on her saws again to get some distance.  She suddenly retracted the saws and paused for a second, as if calculating something. Then, rocket boosters hidden in her feet burst to life, throwing her right at the professor once again.   
  
He was barely able to dodge in time, but as she passed he felt Shannon's hand yank on the back of his shirt.  She planted her feet and landed roughly, while at the same time using her remaining momentum to effortlessly fling him into the wall.   
  
PV landed hard, but aside from getting the wind knocked out of him he was fine.  Still, though, as he took a moment to recover, he noticed that Shannon had stopped her ruthless assault completely, instead taking the time to gloat a bit.   
  
"Geez, you were barely even hard to throw!"  She laughed, injecting a cruel tone that somehow didn't seem genuine.  "If you gotta stop, just say so and I'll let ya go cry about it!"   
  
PV panted a bit.  "I don't think so.  Not yet." He rushed her without warning, taking a page from Fink's book, and barely gave Shannon time to react before his fist was headed right for her head once again.  Once again, Shannon made no attempt to block or dodge -- there was simply no concern for her own self-preservation, Venomous noted.   
  
Just as he made contact, though, she began to shapeshift, her internal heaters quickly raising her entire body's temperature enough to melt her frame.  Venomous immediately pulled his hand back from Shannon’s searing outer skin, yelping in pain as she towered over him in the form of a massive orange steamroller.   
  
"Still didn't hurt!  Ahahaha-Oh shoot." She glanced down at him as he fell to his knees clutching his burnt hand.  "Are...you okay?"   
  
He hissed as he gingerly tapped on his knuckles, and it stung to the touch.   
  
She shapeshifted back to her usual form.  "I'm...I'm sorry. Wasn't trying to hurt either of you guys for real..."  She tapped her fingers together -- no question it was just a Boxman family trait now -- and nervously averted her eyes.  “It was an accident, really…”   
  
"I'll be alright if I can get some ice on this.  Don't think I had enough contact for anything serious."  Venomous took several deep breaths, exhausted, and Shannon leaned over and grabbed his hand to examine the injury closely. "Hey, really, don't worry about it.  You did great, I honestly can't figure out why you wouldn’t win every day if you weren't holding back."   
  
"That's what I've been saying!" she huffed, letting Venomous go, "I should be trashing 'em every single time!"   
  
"Yeah, if you weren't a loser."  Fink giggled as the two both glared.

“Fink, just go...get me...something.”  PV collapsed back into his chair. “Ice.  Yeah. Go get that.” He leaned back, laying his uninjured hand on his forehead, as Shannon looked on worriedly once again.  As she caught him noticing her expression, though, she immediately switched it back to a pout.

“I only held back this time because I knew Daddy wouldn’t like it if either of you got hurt for real.  Not because I care or anything…”

“Don’t worry, Shannon.  I get it.”

  
  
\--- 

 

"Are you sure you're okay?"  Boxman watched PV adjust the bag of ice he held over his hand.    
  
"Yeah, it wasn't bad.  Just barely got caught when she was heating up."  He glanced down at Shannon, seated on the floor right at the base of his legs.  "She stopped before she did any real damage."   
  
"Ssh, it's about to start!" the robot whispered up at him, turning her head back to the TV.   
  
They had moved the playroom couch to the middle of the room, to better pile together for movie night, in spite of Fink's request to use the miniature theater Boxman had for some reason installed in the factory.  The adults -- PV, Ernesto, and Boxman in the middle, as well as Fink on her Boss' lap -- all claimed it while the younger robots took various positions on the floor below them, with Shannon and Raymond in particular leaning against their legs.   
  
All except one.  Venomous glanced over at Darrell, sitting way off towards the other side of the room.  The robot had taken measures to separate himself from everyone, moving far forward of the couch and draping a blanket over his shoulders.  With how close he was sitting, he slightly blocked the TV as the title appeared on the screen.   
  
"Why do we have to watch this baby movie, anyway," Fink thought aloud.  "I wanted a scary one!"   
  
"Now, Fink, we had to pick a movie we all could watch."  With his good hand PV rustled her hair a little, as Boxman glared at Darrell.   
  
"Psst, Darrell," Boxman loudly whispered, trying to get his attention.  "Move it or lose it."   
  
The robot slowly peered back at him and Venomous, scanning his eye across all of his siblings along the couch behind him, and sighed sadly before looking away.   
  
"...I'm gonna go sit with him."  Shannon carefully got up and stepped over Raymond's legs and Mikayla's tail, and tapped her brother's shoulder.  After some convincing he finally scooched back to sit with her at Ernesto's feet, though still keeping the blanket on -- just to have even a miniscule physical barrier, Venomous guessed.   
  
PV kept watching them, ignoring the opening credits.  Darrell leaned over to whisper something to Shannon, inaudible to him over the movie’s sound.  She listened, then shook her head, glancing back at the professor for only a second before whispering a response.  The two continued whispering for a few minutes, with Darrell even smiling and laughing for the first time as his sister apparently told him a joke, before Shannon finally put her arm around his shoulders and they watched the movie together in silence.   
  
_I guess those two just get each other..._   
  
Venomous discreetly tapped Boxman's shoulder.  "Is...Darrell okay now, you think?"   
  
"He'll be alright, PV," Boxman whispered back.  "He can't stay mad at us forever. In fact, I’m betting this isn’t even about losing his job anymore, probably just about that stupid cowboy outfit I took from him."   
  
"Shush!"  This time, Raymond turned back to interrupt.   
  
With Shannon gone, though, and Jethro slowly rolling up to take her place, Venomous leaned close to Boxman, a thought from earlier running through his head.   
  
"So, I was thinking about something," he whispered, trying to keep his voice low enough that none of the robots heard, "This whole week, I wanted to spend time with the robots, get to know them a bit more.  And I really did...Well, most of them."   
  
He glanced back at Shannon and Darrell, the former poking her brother’s head a bit to wake him as the latter began to doze off a bit.   
  
"But...something really made me wonder today, if maybe I went into this with the wrong idea.  I just...need to know, for sure. Do they feel?"   
  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  Boxman squinted a little.   
  
"I mean...I spent a whole day with Shannon.  And...she's aggressive," He shuddered a little, remembering how savagely she'd taken even a training fight, " _Very_ aggressive.  But...she wanted to impress me, and worried about me afterward.  And I honestly couldn't tell if it was genuine or not."

He looked back at her, as she seemed to resign herself to just letting Darrell sleep on her shoulder.  “I kind of think it was, though.”  
  
"You couldn't tell the difference, huh?"  He winked at Venomous, barely visible in the dark as the screen flashed.  "I would say she's one of my greatest accomplishments. A perfect simulation of a teenage girl, that I programmed to the last detail."   
  
"A...simulation?”  He blinked a few times.  “But...that means none of her emotions are actually real, though?  Or any of the others'? They're...just a simulation of real feelings?"   
  
Boxman shrugged, and smiled at PV.  "Most of them, yeah. But does it matter?  They're still my kids."

_Robots or not, real feelings or not, they are still people._  He mentally kicked himself for forgetting once again.

"...I guess it doesn't."  He returned the smile.  
  
"Ssh!"     
  
"Mikayla!"   
  
"I AM JETHRO!"   
  
This time, all of the robots and Fink turned towards them to interrupt.


	6. Darrell

Professor Venomous quickly turned the pages towards the end of his binder, having stopped bothering to actually read each and every robot schematic some time ago.  Junkfish, another Junkfish except bigger, Mega Junkfish, Junksquid, Super Ultra Mega Junkfish, Special Limited-Edition Cowboy Junkfish with Robo-Seahorse...  
  
"Boxman, what the heck was your deal with all the robot fish?" he thought aloud as he closed the binder in disgust.    
  
Boxman shrugged next to him.  "I just liked Junkfish." He took another sip of coffee.  "They really didn't get the job done, though..."  
  
"I guess not.  Still though..."    
  
They were interrupted by Darrell entering the kitchen, yet again pouring himself a bowl of bolts and grabbing some milk from the fridge.  He didn't bother to look in PV's or Boxman's direction this time, finally content to just ignore them as he prepared his breakfast. Venomous noticed the robot wasn't even stomping with his heavy boots, and his movements were much less agitated.  
  
Once again, though, he attempted to get the robot's attention, hoping that perhaps his ennui meant Darrell was finally in a mood to speak to him.  
  
"Darrell, good morning."  
  
He got no response from the robot, who just finished pouring the milk into his cereal and took a slow bite before turning back to the fridge.  Perhaps a question might engage him more? The professor tried to think of one before Darrell left again.  
  
"Hey, I, uh...I noticed you're the only one still coming in here to get breakfast every morning," Venomous watched him pause just after opening the refrigerator door, to let PV get to his point.  "Why...do you do it every day?"  
  
Darrell finally turned to Venomous, though for the first time since the latter had started living at Boxmore the look in the robot's eye wasn't anger or annoyance.  Rather, he looked...indifferent. Neutral. Exhausted.  
  
"...No."  This was the only response Venomous' question managed to pry from Darrell, as he replaced the milk in the fridge and gently closed the door, taking his bowl of cereal back to his room to eat.  
  
After Darrell had been gone a few seconds, Boxman loudly sighed to break the silence.    
  
"Ugh, organics, am I right?"  He immediately remembered just who he was talking to, and scrambled to recover.  "I-I mean, not, uh, not _you_ , Professor, I was just-"  
  
"I forgive you."  Boxman paused, still unsure if he had offended Venomous, but the latter leaned over and gave him a tiny forehead kiss to reassure him that he wasn't upset.  
  
"So, you actually consider Darrell organic?"  
  
"Well, I guess it kind of depends, he sure acts like it lately..."  Boxman quickly abandoned that train of thought. "Ahem. Anyways. You never wondered about his brain?  It's, like, right there."  
  
Venomous nodded.  "I had wondered about it.  Makes sense, though, an organic brain probably would be more efficient for that size of a hivemind."  
  
"Oh, absolutely.  It just doesn't work otherwise!  Even Ernesto is just so..limited."  He sighed.  
  
"But, giving him an organic brain has...drawbacks.  For instance, every hour I spent programming Shannon's personality?  I had to spend two DE-programming and restricting Darrell's." He pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Without a lot of success."  
  
"What do you mean, exactly?"  
  
"Well, I mean...He's not just a perfect simulation of a teenage boy, he _is_ a teenage boy sometimes.  Still has a lot of those 'biological' things going on, that I just can't seem to get rid of."  He glanced towards the door Darrell had left out of earlier. "You noticed he comes in here, like, twice a day to get something to eat, right?"  
  
"Yeah..."  A few things clicked together in Venomous' mind, and suddenly his question had an answer.  "So, wait...you're saying he does that because he's _hungry?_ "  
  
Boxman sighed.  "I gave up trying to stop that a while ago.  It's so much work keeping the vending machines stocked around here with all of him around, though at least all the Lesser Darrells need is snacks."  
  
He groaned, getting more and more worked up as he ranted.  "The primary one, though! 'Father, when is dinner?' 'Father, can we have our lunch breaks back?'  'Father, can't I finish my chips before I go attack the plaza?'" Boxman did a fairly accurate impression of the robot's high-pitched voice, PV had to admit.  "I keep trying to tell him his glorb power core will give his body all the energy he could ever need, but he just _insists_ ..."  
  
Venomous rubbed his hand up and down Boxman's back a few times to calm him.    
  
"So, then..."  He opened the binder again, flipping to that one page with the schematics on Darrell’s brain.  "This was accurate? That his brain gives him actual human emotions?"  
  
Boxman looked over the page.  "Oh. Ernesto put that in. That was an...early concept, but yes.  He does, and they're simply _awful_ ."  
  
"And...what else, exactly?"  Venomous' eyes widened. "Wait, does that mean...he has those...you know..."  
  
Boxman waited a few seconds as PV refused to complete his statement, but figured out the rest of it anyway.  He laughed nervously.  
  
"Oh, no no no!  Don't worry about that, PV, those were some of the things I DID manage to de-program!"     
  
"Phew..."  He slumped back in his chair, relieved that he didn't have to have that particular talk with anyone just yet.  
  
"...I think."    
  
He shot Boxman an angry look.    
  
"Oh, I'm just messin' with you PV!"  Boxman slapped his back, hard, and stood up from the table, unceremoniously tossing his empty mug into the sink, where it loudly crashed into the other unwashed dishes.  "But, I gotta get to work. Big plaza destroying day, you know! See you later!"  
  
Venomous stayed seated for a few moments, contemplating what an organic mind could mean for his efforts to connect with Darrell.  It certainly wouldn't be as simple an affair as with his pure robotic siblings, and all the difficulty he'd presented to PV so far suddenly made perfect sense.

He got up and started taking care of that sink full of filthy dishes as he continued his thoughts.  
  
This entire time, he realized, he may have been thinking too hard.  He had not dealt with conflict and empathy with robots before this week, but he had several years of experience doing so with Fink -- PV just had to draw on that.  How did he handle her when she was upset with him?  
  
He tried to remember an argument that could apply to his situation with Darrell.  There was one candidate, an incident several months ago, where he'd refused to buy her a new videos game, and she locked herself in her room in a huff.  No matter what Venomous had tried, Fink simply refused to come out, or talk to him.  
  
He remembered his three-part solution to the problem clearly:  A peace offering, he'd taken her a bowl of her favorite ice cream, and allowed her to eat it to cool down both metaphorically and literally.  Then, once she was ready, he talked to her, listening to how she felt, and had found out that she mostly wanted the game because she thought he might play it with her.  Finally, after listening, he made her a compromise to make things right, and they spent the rest of that afternoon playing another one of her games together, even if it wasn't necessarily one that he enjoyed.    
  
Peace offering, listen, compromise.  It was an unusual method for a villain, but one that had indeed served the professor well, and one he hoped Darrell would finally respond to.  But, first he would need to find that initial peace offering…

 

\---

 

The professor double-checked the directions that Shannon had given him, and knocked on the door.  He heard some shuffling behind it, but no other response.  
  
Was this even the right room?  He looked up and down the plain hallway; there was very little to indicate which door led to which room, or even which hallway was which on this level of the factory.  It was all kept nearly pristine, perfect, clinical even. Quite the contrast to the factory below, and to the man who built it.  
  
It was entirely possible he'd approached the wrong door, as Shannon’s directions were admittedly not too clear, but it wouldn't hurt to try one more time.  He knocked again, a little louder.  
  
Finally, the door opened a crack, with an eye peering through.  Upon seeing his visitor, Darrell opened the door a little wider, but still not much.  
  
"What do you want _this_ time."  As usual, the robot scowled at him, his frown now seeping into his words, subtly reminding Venomous that he was now intruding on Darrell rather than the other way around.  
  
The professor raised a hand, in a useless effort to dissipate the tense atmosphere.    
  
"It's okay, Darrell.  I'm not here to ask you any more stupid questions, or try to talk."  He shifted the items he held behind his back, bringing them into the robot's view.  "I'm just here to drop something off. As...a peace offering."  
  
He passed Darrell some neatly-folded clothes, and, shaking it out slightly, placed a large cowboy hat on his head.  
  
The frown disappeared, and Darrell's eye widened in surprise, glancing quickly between the hat and the rest of his cowboy outfit, trying to process the gift.  
  
"Is this..."  
  
Venomous smiled.  "Yeah. Don't let Boxman know I swiped it back for you just yet, okay?"  
  
Darrell's eye teared up.  He hugged his costume tightly, and then to PV's surprise jumped out of the room to include him.    
  
"...Thanks, Professor."  The robot squeezed harder, and PV swore he felt him shaking a little as the tears bled into his coat.  
  
"It's no problem, kiddo."  He squeaked out. He had figured being hugged by a robot would be tight, but hadn't ever considered how difficult it would make breathing.  To distract himself from this fact, Venomous patted his hand on the robot's back, where the action was greeted with some more palpable shaking and a very, very involuntary sob.  
  
Finally, to his relief, Darrell released his grip, quickly wiping his eye and taking a deep breath to hide his crying as he jogged back into his bedroom, not really bothering to close the door behind him.  
  
Venomous' instinct was to leave, to take this victory and let Darrell have some time before moving on to the next step and trying to talk to him.  But...it couldn't hurt to just have a peek at this one's world, he figured, after he'd been locked out of it for so long. He poked his head through the door as just a test, then took a step inside.  
  
The costume rack next to the door immediately caught his eye, and PV couldn't help but move further into the room to examine it closer.  
  
"Wow, you actually have a lot of these," he mused out loud.  
  
Darrell watched him closely, seated at the edge of his racecar-shaped bed in the middle of the room.  He had successfully dried his eye, but his voice still shook a little as he responded.  
  
"Yeah.  I...I like costumes."  He still held his cowboy outfit tightly in his arms, but lowered it as he got used to the intruder.  In a way, Venomous noted, he even seemed to be enjoying his company now, in stark contrast to the rest of the week.  The peace offering had worked far better than he’d anticipated.

"I...think it might be best if I retire this one, though.  I guess I'm done being a cowboy for now."  
  
The robot reached to the rack and retrieved a wire hanger, carefully unfolding and looping the clothes onto it.   Venomous stepped aside to let him place the hanger on a knob sticking out from the wall, still examining the other pieces on display.  
  
"Wait, what's that one you hung it over?"  He motioned towards the cowboy costume, which Darrell had hung in front of a loose, dark cloak.  
  
"Oh, that's...uh..."  The robot cleared his throat.  "I just use that for..some stuff.  That my dad doesn't need to know about."  The last part had been quickly blurted under his breath, so PV just let it go, but still made a mental note to investigate later.  
  
He looked at the small sailor costume next to it instead, and smiled.  "And I remember this one. From when Boxman invited us over for dinner..."  
  
"Oh, yeah!"  Darrell giggled a little, and grabbed it, carefully slipping the shirt over the top of the hanger to show Venomous.  "I really like this one. It was the first costume I made all by myself!"  
  
"Wait, you made this?"  Darrell permitted PV to pinch the hem of the shirt a bit, and he observed the rough stitching that indeed looked like it had been done by hand.  
  
"Yeah!  Well..."  Darrell took the shirt back and nervously tapped his fingers together, repeating that little habit that PV had noticed in the rest of the family.  "I didn't completely make it. Just, kind of, fixed it up, so it'd fit me." He replaced it on the hanger. "It used to be my dad's outfit from when he was a kid."  
  
"...Wait."  The professor paused at the mental image of Boxman wearing the tiny sailor suit.    
  
Ignoring him, Darrell hung it back on the wall, and reached up to grab one of the large cardboard boxes on the shelf above it.  
  
"But, I made almost all of my other costumes!"  He dug a little in the box, displaying a few pieces for Venomous, who then joined him in pulling out and examining the items -- a chef toque, a rubber hat shaped like a T-rex head with matching tail, an unfinished skeleton suit, a pair of plate metal gloves from a suit of armor ("I still gotta find the rest of that one," Darrell explained), about a dozen different ties, and even a spare brain case and chest light that matched Darrell's own.  
  
PV jokingly tried on a small black beret, to Darrell's approval, and pulled out a large cat onesie, as the robot suddenly squealed in delight and thrust his hands into the box, pulling out a mass of green cloth.    
  
"Aah, this one's my favorite!  Hang on..." He skipped over to a mirror against the room's far wall, taking several seconds to sort out the tangled outfit and slip it over his head.  It took a lot of adjustment, but eventually he was successfully clad in a light green dress, covered in frills and glitter, and with a pair of large fairy wings sticking out the back.  
  
Professor Venomous playfully whistled.  "That one looks fantastic, Darrell! Did you really sew all of that yourself?"  
  
The robot beamed, sitting on his bed again in his prized fairy costume.  "Yep! It took me a whole week to get it ready for the movie that I made with Shannon and Raymond, but it was worth it!"  
  
"Geez, you guys make your own movies too?"  PV gently replaced everything in the costume box, and set it back on the shelf that Darrell had pulled it from.  "Remind me to see it next time we do movie night." He sat on the edge of the bed next to him, balancing on the hard plastic racecar casing.  
  
"Well, I think Shannon still has a copy, so you can ask her..."  The robot shifted a little along the bed, away from PV, who noticed the robot's sudden discomfort.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry.  Am I too close?"  
  
"No, no, you're fine."  He brought his legs up, tucking his heels into the dress a bit.    
  
"I just...You said earlier that you didn't want me near you, so..."  He sighed. "I've been trying to make sure you had your space."  
  
Darrell looked down, avoiding the professor's gaze.  "It's okay now, really. I guess I was just...really mad at you that day."  
  
"Mad at me?"  PV experimentally placed his hand on Darrell's shoulder, and to his relief the gesture was accepted.  "I don't blame you, honestly. I suppose I didn’t really consider how taking Boxmore back from you would make you feel..."  
  
"It's really okay."  Darrell glanced back up at his cowboy costume.  "I was mad back then, but when I thought about it all a little more I screwed things up a lot too.  I got...carried away with it all." He looked back at PV and shrugged. "I guess, I was mad more at myself.  And you were just... new and there and I just felt like I wanted somebody to take it out on."  
  
"That's okay, Darrell.  I understand. I really do."  
  
"Wait..."  Darrell pulled back.  "You're sure?"  
  
PV was confused.  "Sure...it's okay?  Or sure I understand?"  
  
"Yeah, that one."  Darrell looked down again, a worried look in his eye.  "All of my siblings and Daddy get really weirded out when I say stuff like this, about how I feel and stuff.  They always tell me they don't understand, because my feelings are really...weird."  
  
PV smiled, again placing a hand on his shoulder.  "Well, I do understand your feelings, Darrell." The robot still looked anxious.  "What are you feeling right now?"

Darrell thought for a moment.  "...Kinda confused, and kinda scared.  Kinda...like I want another hug?" Venomous indulged him on that, and the robot started to relax a little as he rattled off different feelings, some of which he could easily describe and some he rambled a bit on as he tried to figure out the right words.  "A little mad that my dad and my siblings all want to hang out with you so much, and I did want to but I already screwed things up and just couldn’t. Like I really hope my dad will order pizza for dinner tonight, even though I know he won’t. Like I’m...I’m not a real person, and I shouldn’t be telling you any of this because I shouldn’t feel it in the first place, but I kinda like telling you anyway..."  

He finally glanced back up at PV.  “I think that’s it right now." The robot’s entire upper body shuddered, giving the appearance of being about to cry once again.

"Those are all weird, though, right?  My dad’s right, my feelings are just...they’re _awful_."

"I don’t think they’re weird or awful at all, Darrell.  Think I’ve even had a few of those feelings myself at some point..."  He laughed a little. "Especially that pizza one, it’s not a bad idea."

"Really?  You’re not...weirded out by me?"  Darrell’s eye lit up, figuratively and even somewhat literally, and Venomous could finally see the very faint red tint to it.

"Absolutely not, Darrell.  And I definitely won't be weirded out if you ever want to come talk to me about your feelings in the future, organic to organic.  Okay?"  
  
"Okay.  O-Organic to organic..."  The robot finally smiled again, but then it dropped as he pulled his knees in even closer.  "I...guess I believe you. But..."

"You don’t?”

Darrell sighed.  “Even if my brain’s organic, I’m not...I’m not real at all."  More tears welled up in his eye. "I’m just a robot, Daddy said so.  So, my feelings don’t matter, they just get in the way." He tried to wipe his eye, but that just made him cry harder.  

"I’m just a robot…" he repeated.

Venomous shrugged, and smiled, pulling him into yet another hug.  "Does it matter? I’m still listening."

The two were silent after that for a few moments as Darrell regained his composure and took several deep breaths to calm down, and Venomous took the opportunity to look around the cluttered room again.  This time, a frame on one of the walls, nestled among some portraits of Darrell and Lord Boxman and a few taped-up crayon drawings, drew his attention, and he stood to take a closer look at the tiny print.  
  
"Whoa, you even made the front page of the newspaper as the CEO?"  He read a little of the article, about how the robot's new business strategy had turned the company's profits around.  "Boxman really wasn't kidding when he said you made this place more profitable than ever."  
  
"Yeah..."  Darrell slowly got up to join him.  "That was three months after I took over the company."  
  
"That really is impressive, Darrell."  PV noticed the robot was much less impressed than he was, however, even squinting a little as he regarded the article with a little disdain.    
  
"I guess.  But..." Darrell sighed.  "It doesn't matter. I did okay at first, but I still couldn't handle being the CEO, and I made too many mistakes in the end.  Miss Cosma didn't even give me a heads-up before you and Dad came back and kicked me out." He took the frame off of the wall, holding it in his hands and looking down at it sadly.    
  
PV finally knew what he had to do to compromise.  
  
"Look, Darrell..."  He started. The robot didn't react.  "I probably can't give you back your job as CEO.  That's Lord Boxman's again, and I don't think it’s fair to force him to give it up.  But, it wasn't fair to you what we did either."  
  
He gently took the frame from Darrell's hands and replaced it on the wall.  
  
"So...how about we meet you in the middle?  It might be good to create a new position in the company between the CEO and the rest of the employees, to kind of...run the daily business operations."  
  
Darrell looked perplexed.  "That's Ernesto's job."  
  
"I mean, above even Ernesto."  PV smiled. "Making the business decisions, rather than just filing all the paperwork for them.  It's definitely not Lord Boxman's strength, but I bet Lord Fairy Princess Darrell might be a good fit for it...if he's willing to take the job, of course."  
  
Darrell gasped.  "You...you really mean it?"  He even hopped a couple of times in excitement, which made PV chuckle.  "You'd rehire me?"  
  
"Of course.  I own Boxmore now, and I want this company to be run the best it possibly can."  He gripped Darrell's shoulders, to settle him as the hopping got a little intense.  "And that definitely means I'm looking for the right people to help."  
  
"Well..."  The robot ran his fingers along his skirt for a second, knocking a bit of glitter loose.  "...Maybe not as Lord Fairy Princess Darrell. I don't wanna get my dress messed up working in it."    
  
"Probably not the best idea," Venomous agreed.  
  
Darrell backed up towards the costume rack and pulled the dress back up over his head, careful not to get it twisted again, and gently laid it out on his bed.    
  
"Hey, give me a minute, okay?"  He asked, grabbing his cowboy costume again, as well as his cowboy boots from the floor nearby.  He ran around to the other side of the bed. "Um, also...can you..." He searched for the right question to ask.  "Can you turn around for a sec? And...not look?"  
  
PV shrugged, and agreed, turning back to the framed newspaper on the wall.   There was a loud thump as Darrell flung off each of his heavy boots, some rustling as he put on the clothes, and a bit of rattling from the spurs on his cowboy boots as he slipped them on last.    
  
PV absentmindedly ran his eyes over the article text again as he mused at how odd it was that Darrell was so self-conscious at changing into this particular costume, considering how he'd acted with the dress before, and how he usually didn't wear anything at all except for the boots...  
  
"Okay, you can look now."  He turned around as Darrell grabbed his hat and placed it on his head once again.  He extended his hand towards the professor.  
  
"Lord _Cowboy_ Darrell accepts the job."  
  
Venomous gladly shook Darrell's hand, as the latter went from a confident smirk to a giddy laugh, to throwing himself into yet another hug.  This time, the excited robot not only squeezed all of the air out of PV's lungs but even effortlessly lifted him up off the ground, spinning him in a circle and whooping in delight.  
  
He put him down suddenly, letting PV collapse to his knees for a few seconds.  Darrell once again tapped his fingers together.  
  
"Heh, sorry.  I got excited..."  
  
"It's okay,"  Venomous hurriedly gasped.  He took a few more deep breaths.  "You're okay. You're..."

A memory surfaced of that day Boxman had arrived at his house and swung him around in the exact same way, and he smiled.  "You're definitely Lord Boxman's son."

 

\---

 

It didn't take much convincing to sell everyone else on ordering a few pizzas for their first official family dinner with PV and Fink.  It did take some convincing, however, to get Lord Boxman to un-ground Darrell a day early so he could join in. The robot had changed out of his cowboy costume, as he and Venomous silently agreed _not_ to tell Boxman of their arrangement just yet and risk spoiling the mood.  
  
"Dad, you should have used that hairstyle!  It's perfect!" Shannon laughed as she looked over some Raymond concept drawings in Venomous' binder.  Raymond, in response, made a few annoyed grunts as he unsuccessfully tried to protest with his mouth full.  
  
The professor let the robots take control of turning the pages, since it was far easier to wipe the pizza grease off of their metal claws than from his own fingers.  They continued laughing in between bites as Darrell flipped though some of his old weapon upgrades.  
  
"Oh man, I couldn't hit anything with that eye laser!  I couldn't even _see_ with it installed!"  
  
"So you really had an eye laser?"  Venomous claimed another slice of pizza as he asked, noticing that the red robot in particular was burning through their food at an alarming rate.  
  
Darrell shrugged.  "Yeah, for like a week.  I ran into a lot of stuff."  
  
"Oh my gosh."  Shannon turned the binder slightly to see it better as she skipped ahead several pages.  "Ernesto, you actually put our baby blueprints in here?"  
  
"Well, I, uh..."  Venomous noticed that Ernesto had barely touched his single slice.  "They're part of the company's history."  
  
"Ancient history..." Raymond remarked, a bit upset that he was no longer represented.  He tossed his leftover crusts to Mikayla, who gladly accepted.  
  
"Whoa, and here's the junkfish," Darrell glanced around the table.  "Remember Daddy used to send those to attack the plaza when we were really little?"  
  
"Oh, yes!"  Ernesto chuckled a little, audibly smiling at the memory.  "I always wondered why he kept making them, even after I was upgraded."  
  
"I liked junkfish, okay?"  Boxman finally chimed in, after avoiding much of the conversation on his older work.  PV noticed his face was turning slightly red.  
  
Shannon rolled her eyes.  "Well, if you liked them so much, why are they in Jethro's room now?"    
  
"They are not!  I put the rest of them-"  He glanced towards Jethro's high chair.  "They are, aren't they."  
  
"I AM JETHRO."  
  
"Put them back," Boxman sighed.  
  
The robots quickly flipped through the various junkfish designs, past the point where PV had given up, until finally reaching the last page of the binder.  
  
This time, Fink spoke up as she read the name along the top of the final blueprint.  "Who's Mr Logic?"  
  
Boxman suddenly slammed his hands on the table, as all four of the original Boxbots stopped talking and stiffened in their chairs, with Raymond and Mikayla just looking around the room confused.  He reached across the table and tore the page right out of the binder, crumpling it in his hands and standing to excuse himself for a moment.  
  
Ernesto cleared his throat once Boxman was out of earshot.  "Professor, Fink, we, uh..." He stalled for a minute to find the words.  "We don't talk about Mr Logic here. I only put it in for completeness, sorry..."  Next to him, Darrell patted his shoulder reassuringly.  
  
Shannon poked PV's arm, pointing to something shoved into the back of the binder.  "Hey, what are those?"  
  
"Oh, I, uh..."  Ernesto stammered a bit as Venomous wiped his hands and picked up a few photographs that Ernesto had slipped in.  
  
The first was a very old picture of a very young Lord Boxman (or, as the captions on the back stated, "Lad Boxman"), posing in front of the old Boxmore building, still in the process of being painted.  He was smiling wide, and had his arm around the shoulders of a less ecstatic but still obviously pleased gray robot.  
  
Before Venomous could even check the back again to confirm the robot's identity, he heard Boxman's footsteps approaching the kitchen once again, and the panicked robots motioned for him to hide the photo.  He slipped it into his pocket just as he stepped in, loudly groaning as he collapsed back into his chair.  
  
"Why does the incinerator have to be such a walk..."  He noticed the other two photographs in Venomous' hands, and leaned in alongside the robots and Fink to see them clearly.  "Now what are those?"  
  
"It's...you guys."  
  
The second was a picture of that young Lord Boxman again, this time struggling but somehow managing to hold his four infant robots in his arms as he gave a tired smile.  Little Ernesto was nervously gripping onto his father's suspenders, Little Shannon looked a bit annoyed as she seemed to be struggling to get loose, Little Darrell was of course absolutely beaming for the camera, and Little Jethro was...there.  
  
The third was another family portrait, with Boxman and the robots, at their current ages, amusingly trying to recreate their poses in the earlier photo as best they could, though obviously only Jethro could actually be held.  This time, though, Raymond and Mikayla stood along the sides, giving somewhat silly poses of their own, with Raymond trying to showcase his face and Mikayla pawing at the air.  
  
"So, when are we takin' the next one?" Fink interrupted, glancing around the table.  
  
"The...next one?"  Darrell swiped the last piece of pizza, bringing his total for the night somewhere in the double-digits.  
  
"Yeah!" she shouted.  "You guys took a new one with Mikayla and Raymond, so when are we gonna take one with me and Boss?"  
  
Venomous laughed at the thought.  "How about we do that tomorrow, after work.  I think Darrell needs some time to get his costume ready..."    
  
He winked at the robot.  Darrell couldn't really wink back, but covertly gave a thumbs-up in response, giggling as Boxman glanced between the two in confusion.  
  
"Were there any, uh..."  Boxman tapped his fingers together, looking up at Ernesto.  "Did you put any other pictures in with those, by chance?" He clawed at the table a bit with his chicken leg hand.  “Any...older ones?”  
  
"N-No..."  Venomous answered for him, and laid a hand on his shoulder.  "There was just the two, don't worry."  
  
"Good."  He calmed down, smiling with PV as they listened to the robots and Fink start chatting amongst themselves again, planning the silly poses they’d use for their next family photo.


End file.
